


Right Hand Return

by Humphreywrites



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Abduction Arc, Angst, Depression, Early MSR, F/M, PTSD Mulder, PTSD Scully, TW: suicidal thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:42:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24393730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Humphreywrites/pseuds/Humphreywrites
Summary: An alternative universe in which Scully is returned from her abduction with a baby, no memories of anything prior to her captivity and some PTSD.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 20
Kudos: 98





	1. The Return

Her life, post-abduction, is completely and utterly unrecognizable. Her body was foreign. It is soft, heavy and cumbersome. She hates the fat in her cheeks, and the stretch marks on her hips and belly. She has a belly now. Like her stomach has been inflated with air, and then deflated. She hates her body. Hates it.

Her hair was so long, that she had taken scissors to it, the day her mother took her back to her house. She cried, in the bathroom as each strand hit the floor, each cut a hiss in her ear. She wishes she were dead. She wishes they killed her. They stole her autonomy.

Mother. A word she still can’t bring herself to say. She can’t remember it, but she knows it happened. The proof is in the bundle that grew in her womb sleeping down the hall in her mothers room.

She’s so afraid. Terrified of the child of unknown origins that she can tell it doesn’t like her. She hasn’t held her yet. She’s afraid to. Her mother named her. She felt numb and drugged when they asked for a name. A name for the baby girl Scully, brought in the same day as she was, without a trace of evidence of who did brought them in. They just reappeared with no explanation.

A baby. Her baby. Motherhood was something she had never seriously considered. Work was her entire life, and she assumed she revisit the topic someday. Some day. When she was married with a husband and a house in suburbia. Not this way.

She can’t sleep. When she closes her eyes and tries, she can see them. Her captors in a white room and a metal syringe. Taking blood. Whatever else they did she has no idea. She spent most of that time drugged and asleep. Occasionally, she’d hear voices. She would try to move her wrists, until she realized they were strapped down. She never felt so helpless in her life.

Her mother takes care of the baby, while they figure this whole mess out. A baby, she thinks, isn’t some thing to figure out. She feels guilty. She should want it, but it’s just a constant reminder to what they did. How they hurt her and she really considers adoption. Someone else is better equipped and can give her a better life. At least, that’s what she tells herself when the guilt hits like some kind of train.

She wants her apartment back, but her mother let her lease go, and her things are in storage. She wants her job back, so that she can find those evil motherfuckers who did this to her, but she can’t pass a psych exam. She really just wants her life back. She wants to be Agent Scully again, instead of Dana. Dana is a victim. Agent Scully is a bad ass, take no bullshit FBI agent and Medical Doctor. It’s hard for her to reconcile the fact that she’s both. Or ever was the former.

The trouble is, she knows that it can never be the same, and it makes her emotional. She doesn’t do emotions well, and has a tendency to build walls, and suffer in silence. It’s a method of coping, and compartmentalizing that she’s had for years.

* * *

She is hot and cold at the same time. It’s midnight, and she can hear noises. It’s the baby, she knows this, and decides to make herself useful. She can make a bottle for her mother to give to the baby. It’s easy enough: water, formula, shake it. Mindless.

She’s in the middle of shaking it, when her mother walks in, and gives her a sleepy smile. “Thank you.”

Wordlessly, she hands it to her, and heads out of the kitchen and onto the porch.

It’s nice out. The air hits her lungs, and she looks up at the sky. It’s brilliant and beautiful and she wishes she could talk to her dad. She and her dad would do this, late at night when everyone else was asleep, she’d find him on the porch where he’d explain star clusters and constellations. His voice would be soft, soothing, and sometimes she’d fall asleep on his shoulder.

She misses him, fiercely.

She never properly grieved for him either, and it’s just another long item on the list of things she missed being away. Gone. Taken. Away sounds nicer and less insidious.

Her mother sits next to her, silently with the baby in her arms, contentedly sucking on a bottle. “It’s so clear.”

She nods.

The silence stretches between them, and she takes another look at her, the baby, taking in her recognizable features: nose, puffy bottom lip, and red whispy hair.

It is cute, she has to admit. “Do you want to hold her?” The question is tentative, and she does. There’s some kind of pull, but instead she fidgets with her cross, keeping her hands busy. She doesn’t answer. “Did you know that Orion’s belt was daddy’s favorite constellation? He used to tell me the stories of the ones he knew and he’d point out the Pisces calling me his little fish...”

She’s lost in the memory of being nine years old and hearing him tell her all about her zodiac sign. “You feel more deeply than most people, Starbuck, like a true Pisces.”  
She didn’t understand at the time, but now she does, she really does. Her mother doesn’t ask the question again, as the baby pops the bottle out of her mouth, following her voice. It’s little, the baby, around two weeks, at least according to the doctors. She was healthy though. She read her chart thoroughly making sense of the numbers on the tests and DNA profile. She was hers, that was completely undeniable.

She can’t keep herself safe, how is she going to keep her safe?

“Have you talked to Fox?”

Mulder. No. She hasn’t heard from him since he brought her that VHS. A joke, between the two of them, but she misses him. But, she gets it. She has this whole thing to sort out and the x-files are on pause, while he’s on white collar crimes. She looks at her mother, “I haven’t.”

“He came by yesterday while you were sleeping.”

More like trying to rest, she thinks, numbly. She wonders if he held the baby and she hopes he did. “He did?”

“Yeah, to check in on you. He’s worried about you.”

Me too, she thinks, finding the crack in the pavement in front of them really interesting. “I got my results from my psych exam today, and I failed. They won’t let me into the bureau until I don’t.”

She sighs, picking at her nail. She doesn’t know who she is if she isn’t Agent Scully. “You can do medicine, Dana. You have options.”

Medicine isn’t going to give her answers as to what happened to her. The X-files will. She needs them. She needs closure. Justice. Revenge. But she’ll take what she can get. “I don’t fail things, mother.”

“No you don’t,” Maggie shakes her head. “I know this is really hard on you...”

“Stop, I don’t have the energy for a heavy conversation. I don’t have it in me and if that’s where your going, I just can’t.”

Her mother nods, slowly. She can see the pain on her face, and she wills herself to look away. It’s a short walk to her bedroom, and she lies down ready for another night of sleeplessness.

* * *

On her tenth day back, her mother is going out. She has a church function, and so it’s on her to watch the baby. She tells her over toast and coffee, awfully casually, and she almost spits out her drink. It also isn’t a request, and she knows her mother is backing her into some kind of corner, forcing the baby on her in some vain attempt to get her to bond. Bond. Isn’t carrying her in her womb enough of a bonding experience?

The doors shuts, and it’s just her. Just them. The baby is in a seat thing on the floor. She wonders what those apparatuses are called. Babies come with a lot of things, and her mothers usually tidy living room is full of evidence that a baby lives there. It’s all just uncomfortable.

The baby regards her, the doe blue eyes, mirror her own and she wonders if she’s just as unsure as she is. The silence, is almost comfortable, and she realizes how far away her pediatric rotation was when she was surrounded by babies and tiny humans on a regular basis. She talked to them then, but why was this so difficult?

The baby is still looking at her unblinking probably wondering how she managed to get saddled with her as a mother. The eye contact, is unnerving but she timidly says hello.

It wasn’t so hard. She sits down on the floor, next to her, and touches her little foot. An instinct, maybe, and she wonders if she kicked her a lot with them. She doesn’t remember.

“Dana,” she says, finally. “I’m Dana. I’m...” your mother. “The one you share half your DNA with,” she settles on. It’s the truth. “You were quite a surprise, too.” The baby makes a face. “Yeah, it’s rather complicated, too. Your grandmother is at church, so it’s just you and me for a while, so I hope you’re amenable to that.”

The baby blinks, and her lips quiver. Shit. Her little face contorts into a grimace and she starts to cry.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

She doesn’t know what to do. She sees the phone, and calls the one person who can help her, or at least she hopes.

He’s there in fifteen minutes, as the baby continues to wail in her seat and full on sobbing, as she opens the door, red faced. “Scully?”

“She won’t stop, and I don’t know what to do.”

He nods, and she opens the door for him to come in. The baby is still crying, as he undoes the strap of the seat. He gently picks her up, and she stops.

“I...I...” she tries to talk but it’s all just words that don’t form coherent sentences.

He shushes the bundle, and gently rocks her while staring at her, worried. “Did you try to pick her up?” He asks, gently.

She shakes her head no. It should have been her first response, instead she froze in fear. Fuck, she is not okay. Not at all.

“It’s okay, she just wanted some comfort, didn’t you, Cara?”

“Maybe she’s hungry too, when was her last bottle?”

She had no idea that Fox Mulder knew anything about babies, but she was incredibly grateful that he did. “I’ll go make one,” she says, but he stops her.

“I’ll do it,” he offers, and hands her the baby, without asking for permission as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. It happens so fast that she can’t protest, or do anything about it. When she looks down, Cara, seems happy enough, and looks at her curiously.

She sits down on the couch, and takes her in. The baby is heavy in her arms and real. So real, that tears prick at her eyes. She’s really beautiful too. She feels something holding her, like a sort of protective instinct. It’s powerful, and the baby looks at her, cooing and she melts. A tear falls, and she presses a kiss to her chubby cheeks.

“I am so sorry,” she whispers, apologizing for every thought she ever had about not loving her. For wanting to die. She doesn’t. When she holds her, she somehow wants to live.

It’s a start.

“Hey, um...” he stops, when her head snaps up at him. “She’s pretty cute, isn’t she?” She nods, and he hands her the bottle. “Cara and I got acquainted while you slept at the hospital. She kept me company waiting...” He sits down next to her, as she shifts the bottle into Cara’s mouth without any complaint. The lull of her sucking draws her into a trance, and for a second she feels okay. Just okay.

“This is the first time I’ve held her,” she admits, slowly. If anyone can understand her trauma it’s him.

He raises his eyebrow at that, and looks at her, “Well, you are a natural. She definitely knows who her mother is.” Mother. She was a mother. She cracks a small smile.

When her mother comes home she is asleep on his chest. Cara is in her arms, also completely out, but wakes up to the sound of the door opening. “Hi,” she says, and looks between the two of them, at Cara. The television is playing the sports recap, his arm is slung over the both of them, and there’s a little drool on his t-shirt from her. Her mother regards Mulder. “It’s so good to see you, Fox. Is there any way you want to stay for dinner?”

Dinner? Is it really that late. He nods, and smiles, “I can’t say no to a home cooked meal, Maggie.”

“Perfect,” she says, and heads into the kitchen, leaving them.

“You don’t have to,” she says, sitting up as Cara shifts in her arms. “I’m sure I interrupted your day enough,” she backtracks, but also wanting him to stay.

“Scully, I don’t have anywhere I’d rather be.”

“Well, in that case, is there anyway I can convince you to change her diaper?”

He laughs, “Nope that’s on you.”

Dinner is relatively normal, and conversation flows easily. It’s comfortable, and she doesn’t hate it. He tells her he’s taking her to the shooting range tomorrow, and she smiles. She’s itching to fire her gun. He’s armed with leftovers and when he leaves she finds herself missing his presence.

Cara is over her shoulder, and she hadn’t put her down since she picked her up, quite literally. Every single need her daughter had, she tended to, and her mother noticed. In true Maggie Scully fashion, she didn’t say a word, she didn’t need to.

“I’m moving her crib,” she declares, as her mother finishes the dishes. It’s almost imperceptible, but Maggie did almost drop the plate. “Oh, okay.”

That’s how Cara starts sleeping next to her.

* * *

Mulder is at her door at 1:00 PM sharp. Cara is napping, and she quickly goes to tell her mother. She’s been on cloud nine all day, at the prospect of the firing range, that she cleaned her gun, twice.

It’s just them, save for Mike, the attendant and he’s more than excited to see her when they sign in. “Agent Scully, I’m glad your back,” he says, sincerely and she wants to hug him. Agent Scully. It’s been too long since she’s heard that.

They set up, side by side, and she decides to make it interesting. “Okay, so if I get 98% you have to buy me dinner.”

He scoffs at that. “No way. You’re not going to hit 98% accuracy.” That’s the number that the instructors had to get to qualify. As a field agent, you needed 92%

“Scared to get beat by a girl?” She teases, cocking her gun. She’s got him, hook line and sinker.

“Fine. Your on. Be prepared to buy me dinner.”

He is still fuming as they head to sign out. “99%! How the hell did you manage to do that! I mean, seriously if I didn’t actually watch you, I’d think you cheated.”

She can only smirk. She was an excellent shot. When she grabs the pen to sign her name, Mulder is still complaining. Mike looks at him, squarely in the eye and says, “She got a 99.7% on the first day, Mulder. I would have never bet against her.” He swallows his pride, and looks at her, “So long as I’m never on the wrong side of your gun, I can live with loosing.”

She cracks a grin. “I think I’m in the mood for pizza and your buying, partner.”

* * *

On day fifteen -because she keeps track of time methodically now- she’s sitting in front of the Bureau psychiatrist, with her hands in her lap. She’s wearing a skirt, one that is pinching into her belly, most likely making red lines on her stomach, because it’s just a little too tight. The blouse, she found to match, was loose, and she kept fidgeting with the buttons on her blazer. She did not feel like her old self, even in her sensible heels.

The woman, a brunette, with kind eyes regards her with her pencil poised over the legal pad. She wonders what she’s written and then makes a face. She doesn’t want to know.

“How are you?” It’s innocuous enough. This is her first day of mandated therapy. When you go through a trauma, it’s part and parcel for reinstatement. She still worries about passing the psych evaluation. Her time was stolen. She really does not want her profession to be stripped from her too. “I took Cara to her month check up yesterday.”

Dr. Kosskoff looks at her, and re-crosses her legs. “How is she?” Cara. She could talk about Cara, that was safe.

“Good,” she smiles, “she’s gaining appropriately, she’s meeting the prescribed mile stones and she’s grown an inch, already.”

“How are you dealing with it all?”

She frowns, confused. “All?”

“Adjusting to motherhood?” Right that.

“Five days ago, I held her for the first time,” she admits, with regret. “Because I couldn’t. I...” she trails off. “I felt like she was a stranger, and I couldn’t deal with it.”

“That is completely understandable, Dana. The trauma of your abduction coupled with postpartum, it’s a miracle your even sitting in front of me.”

“I wanted to die,” she says, picking at a piece of lint. “I was so... angry. I still am. It would be so easy to just end it. But, I couldn’t. I intended to...” she hadn’t told anyone this, but she needed to get it off her chest. “The day I got to my mothers... I cut my hair off. I held the scissors over my wrists, and knew exactly how to cut. I dug the blades just to feel them break the skin, and I hesitated. I couldn’t do it. They took everything: my body, my time, my pregnancy and birth... everything.” Tears begin to roll down her cheeks. “I didn’t think I could do it. I couldn’t be a mother. She deserved better than me, and just her being alive was a constant reminder of what I had gone through...” Dr. Kosskoff hands her a box of tissues. She takes one, and continues. “But then, my mom left me alone with her, and she started to cry. These wails... that terrified me. I was frozen in fear so I called Mulder and he came over right away. He took her in his arms, and just held her. She stopped. It was like he just knew how to comfort her, which made me feel even more inadequate but then he put her in my arms to make a bottle, and I had no time to protest or deny her. She was just there. Real. I didn’t let her go, and that night I moved her crib from my mothers room into mine.” She’s silent, as the tears fall, and she the catharsis of letting go makes her feel liberated. Unburdened. “Sorry, I’m a mess.”

“No,” Dr. Kosskoff shakes her head, “never apologize. Crying is a sign of strength, Dana, not weakness.”

“I think I needed to hear that.”

“We all do some times,” she smiles. “I think your making remarkable progress, if no one has told you.”

She shakes her head no, but it feels good to hear it.

* * *

Cara is on the living room floor, on a playmat when she lets herself into the house. Her mother is on the phone, sitting on the couch, chatting away. Most likely to her sister, she thinks and picks up the baby. Cara curls against her chest, and she toes off her heels. Kissing the top of her head, she goes into the kitchen. Therapy not only made her emotional, but hungry.

She’s getting better at doing things one handed, thanks to Cara, and deftly opens the container of cookies while turning on the tea kettle. It’s too late for coffee, but tea sounds like a good idea.

She thinks of her breakdown as a breakthrough, and decides to call Mulder once her mother is off the phone. She needs to ask him a favor.

* * *

When she meant she wanted him to train her, she did not mean show up at door at 6 AM ready for a run.

But then again, she shouldn’t have expected anything else. “I’m not dressed,” she protests, and looks down at her pajamas. “Okay, well, go put your sweats and running shoes on. Daylight is wasting.”

She sighs, and lets him in. “Cara is sleeping so...”

“I will be quiet, we won’t be long. An hour tops,” he promises, as she heads back upstairs to change and tell her mother.

Ten minutes later, she’s in leggings a sweatshirt and white running shoes. He looks at her approvingly and they head outside. “So, it’s just easy today, and...”

“No,” she shakes her head. “Don’t go easy. Push me.”

“But you just had a baby...”

“I’m also a medical doctor, Mulder and it’s been a month. I’m fine.”

He knew better than to argue with her. “Fine,” he says, and looks at her. “Warm up to the track and then sprints, little Mama.”

He races ahead of her, knowing that there would be hell to pay for that comment. Little did he know, it just gave her more incentive to win.

“Little Mama? Really?” She’s out of breath, but not far behind him on that ten minute jog. It felt good, and her competitiveness has been reignited. “Mulder, call me that ever again, and I will shoot you. We both know I’m a good shot and I don’t miss.”

He just laughs, and hands her his water bottle. “Drink up, we’re doing sprints in about two minutes.”

“What’s the time for recertification?”

He shrugs, “I’m not up yet for another year.”

“Whatever, your fast, so I’ll just have to cut your time by like ten seconds.”

“My legs are the length of your entire body.”

“Can you run in three inch heels and a skirt?” She counters, stretching out her legs. “Because I can do what you do with more of an obstacle.”

“I haven’t tried that yet.”

She rolls her eyes, “Okay, let’s go.”

They walk back to her house, and her legs feel like jelly. Not only did they do sprints but a timed two mile. Her hair is matted from sweating, and she cannot wait to shower. It feels remarkably better to get her body moving again. She hates to admit but he’s a good personal trainer. He definitely pushes but catches her when she goes too hard. He doesn’t want her to overextend herself and set herself back.

He leaves with the promise of another session tomorrow. He has work, and can’t stay. She would have asked him too, if he didn’t. It’s still strange, them not working together.

Her mother giving Cara a bottle when she walks in the kitchen, making a beeline for the fridge. “How was the run?”

“It was fun, actually. Did she wake up right after I left?”

“No,” she shakes her head, “fifteen minutes ago.”

“I can take her if you want...”

“You sure you don’t want to shower? I don’t mind the morning feed.”

She nods, grateful for the option. “I probably reek.”

Her mother just laughs, and she heads upstairs.

When she’s clean, and in new leggings (because that’s all that fits), she goes downstairs to find her sister holding Cara. “Melissa!?” Her eyes light up, “I didn’t know you were still in DC.”

“I’m here, and I figured I’d see how you two were doing.”

“We’re good,” she says, and goes to the coffee pot.

“I can see that,” her sister eyes her, cautiously. “Mom was really worried about you.”

“I know,” she pours a mug of coffee, as Cara squirms in Melissa's arms. “Can I?”

“All yours. I got my Cara fix,” she kisses the babies cheeks before handing her over. Cara gives her a reflex smile, and curls into her chest. “Dana, you are such a mom,” Melissa observes, with a smile.

“I am,” she agrees, kissing the top of her downy head. “So, tell me, how was Japan?”

“Oh, awesome. It’s so different from when we lived there...”

She listens intently as her sister talks, and at one point, she might have been jealous of her travels. Melissa was always untethered. Her life was hers, and she lived it exactly how she wanted to. If Dana was the box checker, Melissa was the one who took the boxes, and turned them into flower pots. She bloomed wherever she wanted to plant herself.

“So, mom said you were training with Fox.”

“It’s Mulder, and is there a question?”

“Dana, the man loves you.” She makes a face.

“Mulder is my partner,” she counters. “I have his back, he has mine. We’re friends.”

“No,” she shakes her head, resolutely. “I didn’t mean love you like a friend. I meant in love with you...”

Melissa was never one to mince words, and she couldn’t help but think that she was so off base with that assessment. “I think your wrong.”

“Okay,” she says, taking a sip of her coffee. “He did go pretty ballistic when you were brought in, demanding to see you, and made a whole scene that almost got him kicked out of the hospital. He also spent his time between you and Cara, waiting for you to wake up. I don’t know many men that would do that... do you?”

She doesn’t, and thinks about it as her sisters words roll around in her brain.

* * *

On day seventeen, she makes a hair appointment. Her hair, since her self haircut, has been permanently in a uneven ponytail.

When the receptionist tells her that they can fit her in today at two, she doesn’t hesitate to take it. She brings Cara with her, who ends up falling asleep in her lap. Amy, her regular stylists asks her what she is looking for, as she stares at herself in the mirror with her choppy hair hanging unevenly on her shoulders. She considers the question and says, “I trust your opinion. Just do whatever you think would look good.” Amy nods, considering her answer.

An hour later, she has a much shorter hair cut than she has ever had. It’s sleek, and her hair is cut to just under her ears. When Amy is finished, and she’s been styled, she ends up crying when she sees her reflection.

“You hate it. Dana, I’m so sorry...”

“No,” she shakes her head. “I actually love it.”

Relieved, Amy offers her a small smile. “Amy, do you have time next week to color it?”

“Yes, I do, just make a appointment with Jean.”

* * *

Her days begin to have a routine to them: train with Mulder, shower and get dressed, take Cara from her mother and watch the news, feed Cara, nap while she does, lunch, feed Cara, study for recertification while Cara naps, and dinner. It’s a new normal, and she knows that the structure is helping her heal. Slowly.

Tuesdays are hard. It’s her days of therapy, and she comes home emotionally spent. She hates being vulnerable, but she has gotten a little better at it and Dr. Kosskoff has commented on her progress every single time.

* * *

On day thirty, she beat Mulder at a 25 meter sprint. She thinks he let her win, but nonetheless, it felt really fucking good.

“You did that all on your own, Scully,” he says, as sweat drips down his forehead. He hands her the water bottle. “In almost two weeks of training you’ve gone from almost passing out over that trash can to kicking my ass. Also, did you do something to your hair?”

She can’t help but roll her eyes. “Really, Mulder?” He really was such a man.

“I like it,” he says, as she hands him back the water bottle. He touches a loose strand, and his hand grazes her ear. “It suits you.”

His eyes bore into hers, and she bites her lip. The contact made her heart beat quicken, and she feels like something is happening between them. The way he’s looking at her is too intimate to be considered platonic. Suddenly, he’s leaning closer she knows he’s making a move. A big one and she doesn’t push away or try to fight it as Melissa’s words ring in her ears.

Suddenly, he’s kissing her, and she feels like her body is on fire. Every nerve ending is screaming at her, and he pulls her against him like a magnet. She deepens it, and tilts her head throwing her arms around his neck. Her hands are in his hair, and his fingers are under her shirt tracing circles on her bare stomach. It feels so good to be touched, that they both pull away still touching only when they need air.

He’s smiling, and she is too. “Do you kiss all your partners like that, Mulder?”

“Only the ones I really, really like, Scully.”

She laughs, and pushes him off her. “That’s fair considering your last partners were men. Race you back to my mothers?”

“You’re on.”

* * *

“Mulder, did you know that a serving size for two Oreos is 120 calories?” She asks, twirling the phone cord on her fingers, as she rummages around the kitchen for something moderately healthy to eat. “But like for two cookies? I feel like most people don’t just eat two.”

He laughs, listening to her chatter has become common place. Since the kiss in the park, they’ve taken to phone calls while he’s at work.

She can hear him, ruffling through papers. “What are you looking for?”

“A blank 302,” he says, as she hears a filing cabinet drawer shut. “Try your first desk drawer on the right. I put blank copies in a purple folder.”

He’s silent, and she can hear him. “Scully, I could kiss your organized brain!”

“I’d rather you aim for my lips,” she quips, cracking a grin. This flirty version of herself was coming out, and she didn’t hate it.

“Well, actually,” he begins, somewhat nervously. “I was wondering if you wanted to go out for dinner tomorrow.”

“Oh,” she imagines him all nervous and it makes her blush. “Really?”

“Like on a proper date.”

She had not expected that question, at all. She doesn’t hesitate, “Yes, I’d like that.”

“Okay,” he says, and she swears she can hear him smile if possible. “Alright 7 PM.”

“I’ll get my mother to watch Cara, so that should be fine.”

“Oh, and Scully?”

“Hmmm?”

“Do you know where we happen to keep the extra pencils?”

“Did you try the ceiling?”

He just laughs, as she hangs up. Her head is spinning. A date. A real date. She’s nervous like a teenager, and tries to tell herself that it’s just Mulder. Except it isn’t.

Her mother agrees to watch Cara, when she asks her, and has a knowing smile on her lips.

* * *

She hasn’t been on a date since the divorced father Ellen set her up with, and she’s been on edge all day. Before that she was with her then boyfriend Ethan... so, her dating experience lately was abysmal. Cara was fussy and refused to be put down, so she literally had to have her on her hip as she did her normal routine.

She wished she had four more arms, it would come in handy.

Cara is sleeping in the middle of her bed, as she goes through her closet. Since most of her things are still in storage, she has no idea what her options are.

Leggings and T-shirts have been her go to, and now she’s perusing old clothes hoping that something fits her new body. She is slowly getting there. Her stomach isn’t so pronounced, because of the whole running and watching what she’s been eating thing, but it’s still soft.

Finally, she hits jack pot.

A long, black cotton dress was hanging at the very back of her closet. It was square necked with thin straps, but she had a few sweaters that would be fine.

Her hair is done, her makeup is minimal, and when she stares at her reflection in the mirror she actually likes what she sees. The cotton dress forgives her problem areas, and highlights her curves. The gray sweater and black boots complete the look.

Cara decides to wake up, just as she finishes.

“Your timing, Cara, is impressive,” she sighs, and puts her on her hip. “Let’s go get you a bottle, baby girl.”

xxxx

“Dana, you look beautiful,” her mother comments, as she fixes Cara her bottle.

“Thank you,” she blushes. She’s always been terrible at taking compliments. “So, she’s been changed, I’m feeding her now, and...”

The door bell rings. It’s him. It’s happening.

She opens the door, and he’s smiling. “Hi,” he says, holding a daisy. “This is for you.”

He looks good, she muses, he’s in a charcoal suit that she hasn’t seen before and one of his goofy ties is around his neck. “Thank you,” she says, touched. “I’d take it from you, but...”

“Cara,” he nods, as she ushers him in. “Come with me, I’ll put this in water.”

“Hi Fox,” her mother greets when she sees him. “Dana, honey give me Cara. You guys should get going...”

She nods, and gently puts her in her mothers arms. She kisses her forehead, and touches her cheek. “She’ll probably need another bottle before I get home and...”

“Dana, go.”

She can’t help but laugh. “Fine, I’m going,” she grabs her purse off the counter and smiles at him. She forgot all about putting the flower in water.

He takes her to Alfonzo’s downtown. It’s nice, really nice, and she tells him so. She listens when he talks about work, even though, he promises it’s still as boring as ever she misses it. He asks about Cara, and she lights up telling him all about her latest milestones. She tells him that she’s been sleeping in longer stretches than two hours, which has been good for the both of them. It’s not awkward at all and they don’t run out of things to talk about. There are definite topics they don’t breach: her abduction being one, or what this new facet to their relationship might mean for their partnership, but it’s nice to just be with him. They split a bottle of wine and she’s warm and giggly by the second glass.

The food is good, but the company is better. On her third glass, she’s red faced and uninhibited. They talk about their respective pasts. She hears stories of Oxford and he hears stories of her college days, where she lost herself for a while rebelling against the expectations for her. He’s shocked when she tells him she used to have a nose ring, and pink hair. He says he needs pictures as proof, and she promises to dig some out of the archive.

He pays, even though she says she’d split it. “No chance, Scully. Next time though...” Next time. As in, they’re going to do this again. It makes her smile.

Her mothers house is dark, and when he walks her to the door, he slips his hand in hers. It’s so normal and sweet. “Thank you,” she says, as when they get to the door. “This was fun.”

“It was,” he agreed, and looks at her. “Scully, is it okay if I kiss you?”

“I was kind of hoping...” she doesn’t finish her sentence because he does kiss her soundly on her lips, leaving her breathless. He breaks it, and looks at her. “I just don’t want to screw this up, and we can take it as slow as you need.”

“Mulder, you don’t need permission. You can kiss me anytime you want.”

“In that case...”

He does, and she pushes him against the door. Her tongue is in his mouth, and she has his shirt in her fists. She’s so turned on, but knows they can’t go further than this, but she can feel he wants it too. She has to break contact before her body completely betrays her. His hands are on her hips, and she steadies herself, “I probably should go.” She makes no moves, and he just looks at her. “Right, Cara.”

She bites her lip. It’s complicated. If she didn’t have the baby upstairs sleeping, and it was just them, this would be going in an entirely different direction. “Is it weird?” She asks, softly. “Me having a baby,” she clarifies. He shakes is head, “No, it’s like she’s just an extension of you. Plus, we both know we’ve seen weirder.”

She laughs, at that. “It’s still...” she pauses trying to find the right words. “An adjustment.”

He doesn’t say anything, and can only touch her cheek. “Watching you with her, Scully, I know you love her.”

“I do,” she says, quietly. “As screwed up as this all is, I do. In a lot of ways, she’s saved me. If I came back alone...” it would be so different.

He touches her cheek, wiping away a tear. He pulls her into his arms, and she puts her arms around him. He’s an anchor, as she feels the pull of the waves. “I hated her at first, and I felt so bad about it, because she’s just a baby. An innocent little being... but she represented them. What they did. What they took from me. God, it was so hard. So hard.”

He rubs her back and she looks at him. “You don’t have to tell me,” he say, cautiously.

“But, I do because if you hadn’t put her in my arms, so oblivious to that fact... I don’t know if I would have been able to love her. Mulder, I was looking at adoption agencies. I made an appointment to speak with a counsellor. I thought she deserved so much better than what I could give.” She’s sobbing now, and it feels freeing to finally tell him. “I didn’t, of course, but I could have. I almost did.”

“Dana, no one would have faulted you if you had. This is something that happened to you and keeping her, in my opinion, only makes you stronger. Not that giving her away was the easier choice, it’s just that choosing to raise her in spite of everything they did to you is brave. You need to give yourself more credit here. You could have let them win. They tried to break you, but you didn’t. You fought. You’re fighting now, and I’m so proud of you.”

She gives a watery laugh, “Now you sound like Dr. Kosskoff.”

“So, it’s helping?”

“Yeah,” she smiles sadly, “it’s helping.” She wipes her eyes, and regards him. “So are you. Just being here and after everything...”

“Scully, it’s hard to get rid of me.”

“I know,” she quirks a grin at him. “I don’t know if they’ll put me back to the lab, or with you, but we’re still going to be partners.”

“We are,” he agrees, and runs his hands through her hair. “Does this mean we’re going steady, Scully?”

“I made out with you on my mothers front porch, Mulder.”

“Okay, so that’s a yes.”

She laughs, and slips her key out of her pocket. “Good night, Mulder.”

He moves to let her inside, grinning. “Good night, Scully.”

* * *

On day thirty five, she tells her mother she is going to start looking for apartments.

Her mother just nods, and slides her the classifieds while she sips her coffee. Cara smiles at her, for real, and she knows she’s making the right call.

Her standards are high, and technically she’s on maternity and extended trauma leave. So, in regards to her finances she’s okay for quite a while. Plus with her savings, she knows exactly what she’s able to budget for. The first couple she goes to see, she immediately finds something wrong: there’s no alarm systems in place, or the condo fees- which they neglected to tell her about- are too high.

He’s with her, and they get mistaken for a family by her realtor initially but neither bother to correct the tall Amazonian woman, who asks about school districts for Cara.

He takes Cara from her while she walks around, assessing the place, wondering if she can picture them living here. So far, no.

The fourth place, her realtor, Diane says is perfect, but slightly out of her price range. She decides to see it anyway, and she’s right. It is perfect. The two bedroom is in a newer gated complex, close enough for a easy commute to either Quantico, the Hoover or her mother, it has a state of the art alarm system and a security guard on staff at all times. That fact alone makes her feel a little safer.

When she opens the door, the apartment is bright, airy and clean. So clean she would feel fine letting Cara crawl around if she could. It fits every single criteria she had and then some: all access to a gym and outdoor pool. The two rooms are perfect, and hers would have a bathroom off it with a claw tub, which is just an added bonus. She loves it. Immediately. It’s only when they talk about how much out of her budget the apartment would be does she balk, at signing the lease. It’s an additional grand an month than she had prepared for. Coming up with first, last and security, would be a lot tighter than she anticipated.

“You okay, Scully?” His familiar voice draws her out of her head, as her hand hesitated over the signature line. “It’s just a lot more than I anticipated,” she says, evenly as Cara begins to grab at his shirt. A tell that she’s getting hungry. After one more long look at her daughter, she carefully scrawls her signature in her perfect catholic school cursive. It’ll will be really tight, but she deserves this, and so does the baby in his arms.

It’s done, just as Cara starts to sob, and he busily excuses them to get a bottle. It takes all of ten minutes. She writes a check, wincing at the amount, and hands it to her. Diane says once it’s cleared, she can move in. She gives her the keys, and she feels lighter.

Her own place. Again.


	2. The Healing

On day forty-five, she’s all moved in. Her things are out of storage, and she’s in the middle of setting up Cara's crib, which is a lot of more complicated than she anticipated, when she hears a knock.

Assuming it’s just a neighbor- all of whom have been warm and welcoming- she opens the door. She’s in her overalls, with probably make her look all of twelve, and he’s holding a pizza and a bag, which suspiciously looks like a bottle of wine.

“Am I interrupting?” He asks, as she shakes her head, smiling. “No. I was in the middle of putting together her crib, but I originally used the wrong screws and... you know, what it doesn’t matter. Come in.”

“Nice digs,” he says, taking in her new place. “It’s a hell of a lot nicer than mine.”

“Well, bachelor pads and infants aren’t copacetic.”

“Speaking of said infant...”

“I just put her down in my room,” she says, as he puts the pizza on her counter. “She’s been fussy today, which hasn’t helped with the whole trying to unpack things.”

“I can imagine.”

“But anyway, this is a nice surprise.”

“You’re not going to kick me out?”

“No, you bought pizza and something that looks like a wine bottle.”

“Since your all set up,” he looks at her television and VCR, “I figured we could finally watch that movie I gave you.”

She laughs, “Mulder, I wouldn’t even know where to look for it. But I do have cable and maybe something is on...”

“Or,” he says, pulling her toward him. “We could do this...”

She blinks, and he kisses her, in her overalls and bandana on her head, with such fervor it leaves her feeling dizzy. They’ve been in the exportation stage of their new relationship, the whole heavy petting and making out on her couch or his, but she is hesitant to take that last step. It isn’t that she doesn’t want to, it’s just... she’s scarred. Her body is so different and he never saw her before. It gives her anxiety, but when he kisses her like that, she finds it really hard to be self-conscious.

She trips over her feet, laughing as she pulls him toward her couch, and soon he’s on top of her, still kissing and not breaking contact. It feels so good, that she wants to do more. Much more. His lips travel down her neck, and she stops him. “I think I’m ready.”

He raises an eyebrow, and then realizes what she’s saying. “Oh,” he says, smiling. She sits up, and unbuckles the straps on her overalls, and slides them down her hips, kicking them to the floor. His eyes widen, she hadn’t been wearing a bra or underwear, and he’s completely taken by surprised. He studies her, and she can feel herself feeling emboldened by his gaze. “You’re beautiful, Scully,” he says, finally, finally finding words. He touches her face, gently. “I really hope you know that.” Her vulnerability is showing, and he shows her just how much she means to him as he touches her traveling down her face to her belly, touching the stretch marks, in awe. She sucks in a breath, as he looks at her, “These are my favorite.” The fact that he saw her scars as something beautiful made her weak. “You had a baby, and made a human being. That’s pretty spectacular.”

He kisses her skin, and a jolt of desire sends her under. “Mulder,” she says, urgently. “Please.”

He nods, slipping his shirt off, and tossing it on the floor. Sliding his own boxers off, she finally sees him. She had caught a glimpse, a few times, but actually seeing it unclothed was something else. “Birth control?” Right birth control, thankfully he had his head working. “I’m on the pill, and I’ve seen your blood work. Please Mulder, enough talking.”

She doesn’t need to tell him again.

* * *

Once she came down to earth, both of them were trying to catch their breath. He pulls the afghan over them, and they just lay there on her couch completely satiated. She knew it would be good, but she hadn’t known it would be completely euphoric.

She’s had sex, but never this. This was love.

“You okay?” He whispers, kissing her head. “You’re too quiet.”

“I’m okay,” she promises, smiling. “I’m processing, I guess.”

He’s silent against her, playing with her hair. “I didn’t hurt you did I?”

She had winced a few times, ignoring the pain of taking him in fully. “No, nothing I couldn’t handle.” He was so gentle, and caring that of course he’d pick up on her discomfort. “It’s just I haven’t done that for a while... and then considering I gave birth two months ago it’s just really different.”

“Do you remember any of that?”

She doesn’t know what he’s specifically referring to, and thinks it’s about her pregnancy.

“I’ve had a few dreams that could have been some kind of memory, but nothing concrete...” I’m sorry, it’s just I don’t want to ruin the moment with...” she doesn’t need to say it. The memories.

“Fair enough,” he smiles at her. “So, Scully, you ready for your psych exam next week.”

“I’m not failing it this time,” she says resolutely.

“That's my girl,” he says, laughing. “I have no doubt that I won’t see you in the basement one of these days.”

* * *

Since they’ve crossed that final line, everything is the same yet completely different. Instead of their runs, he goes to the gym with her, while Cara sleeps on the bench in her car seat. Instead of showering alone, after their workouts she has does with him. It should feel weirder, maybe, but it doesn’t.

The domestic bliss, comes to a screeching halt when she gets Cara’s full DNA profile. A series of tests she had run by the bureau, as soon as she could.

She hadn’t expected it- it was just another innocuous envelope- until she saw the return address. Tearing it open, she finds herself confused, her jaw drops when his DNA is identified as a 97% paternal match.

He would have told her, wouldn’t he? Did he even know? It would not surprise her if he’d run tests on Cara, while she was in her coma. It wouldn’t surprise her at all. She really, needed to talk about it, but somehow finds herself driving to her mothers envelope on the passenger side with Cara in the backseat.

“Dana, what is it?” Her mother asks, as soon as she opens the door. Cara is in one hand, the envelope is in the other and she’s bleary eyed from crying the entire drive over.

“Come in,” she says, ushering her to the couch in the living room. She sits, and picks up Cara. Blissfully unaware, Cara babbles and settles against her chest. She hands her the envelope, and Maggie hesitates. “Dana, what is that?”

“An answer,” she says, sighing. “It’s her DNA results, including her paternity.”

“They found a match?” It’s a match all right.

She nods, as her mother opens the envelope. Maggie frowns trying to make sense of the numbers. “Go to page two.”

Her mother flips it over, and her eyes widen as she reads the results. Her eyes bore into hers, “Fox is her father? But...”

“I have no idea how,” she says, sheepishly. “I don’t know if I was inseminated... or if this was a natural thing or how they even got his sperm. I have more questions right now than answers...”

“You think she could have happened the old fashioned way?” Her mother asks, plainly.

“I don’t know. I don’t have a lot of memories prior to being taken, and it’s... incredibly frustrating. I do remember we got closer after they shut us down, but did we actually have sex? I have no idea. I know that I’m religious about birth control, so its highly unlikely I would have slipped up... but anything is possible. I don’t think he would not tell me we were sleeping together... then again, if I didn’t remember, maybe he was trying to protect me from that knowledge for some reason... I just don’t fucking know...”

Her mother considers this. “Does it matter how she was conceived? She’s here, Dana. Fox is a good man, he’s been a good father to her...”

“Yes, it matters,” she says, looking at her incredulously. “If we were together, then he has a memory of something that I don’t have. I’ve had enough of those taken from me. I’d like to have that specific memory, considering it seems like an important one, don’t you think?” She’s being sarcastic, but she’s too angry to care.

“As you said he wouldn’t do it on purpose, Dana.” She isn’t sure anymore. “Considering the fact that we just started sleeping together, and he may have prior knowledge...” Her mother doesn’t say anything, and looks at her. She can’t believe she’s even having this conversation. “He should have told me.”

“Dana, you need to talk to him.”

“I know,” she sighs, as Cara looks at her. “We both need answers, huh?”

* * *

He’s at his apartment, and surprised to see her when he opens the door. “We didn’t have plans tonight, did we?”

“No,” she says, and looks at him. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, I was about to order takeout but... where’s the little Scully?”

“My mom has her. This is actually about her.”

He furrows his brow at that, and goes to the fridge, and holds out a beer. “Yeah, sure.”

He slides her one, and the cap off his. “Okay, shoot.”

She takes the envelope out of her pocket. “I got these in the mail today.” She hands it to him. “It’s Cara’s full DNA profile, I had done by the Bureau.”

He swallows, and his eyes widen. His reaction tells her that he knew. “But you don’t need to see them.” He looks at her, uncomfortably. “Because you already know that she’s ours, don’t you?”

He can’t meet her eyes, and she is pissed, “Tell me, did she happen because we had sex or because I was inseminated?” she seethes. The look on his face tells her that answer too. She feels slightly sick.

“When?”

“Arecibo,” he says, finally meeting her eyes. “Puerto Rico.”

Puerto Rico. She remembers that, vaguely. He was down there chasing some lead and she had to pull him out before mercenaries would have killed him. She remembers driving the Jeep, and then... nothing. She waits for him to fill in the blanks, her eyes are full of fire.

“We found this little village, once we were off that mountain and there was a hostel, so, we shared a room...”

“Apparently body fluids too,” she retorts, still angry. “And then what happened, Mulder? You have an eidetic memory, so fucking tell me.”

“What do you want, Dana? A play by play? I can tell you that it was absolutely amazing. It was hot, sweaty and the way you felt, Christ, I wish we had taken our time. It was reckless and we didn’t use anything... we agreed it would be a one time thing, because they if they figured there was anything between us, neither of us would be safe,” he pauses, and slams his hand on the counter. “They found out anyway and took you. They took you and I didn’t handle it well. Then they brought you back to me with a baby... Cara. Do you have any idea what it’s been like, knowing that you didn’t have any memory of what we did to make her?” His voice breaks, full of emotion. “I wanted every day to tell you. I couldn’t. Even when you told me you wanted to give her up... I couldn’t tell you. I hadn’t realized how difficult it was for you and I wanted to be there but you had so much to adjust to... Dana, I had no idea where I fit.” He’s choking back a sob, as her eyes water. “I’m so sorry, I was trying to protect you, and I should have the foresight to realize it would backfire.” She’s silent, as she reaches for his hand, covering it with hers.

“They robbed you of the experience too,” she breathes. His eyes meet hers. “I’m so sorry.”

He pulls her into his arms and she lets him hold her. They still have so much healing to do. “Me too.”

“Dana,” he says, cupping her chin. “I’m not going anywhere. I want to be in her life and yours. I love her, and I love you. I love you so fucking much, and...”

“You love me?” She doesn’t know if she is asking because she needs confirmation or because she just wants to hear it again. He grins, “I. Love. You. Dana. Katherine. Scully. The woman who rewrites Einstein for fun.”

“That was my honors thesis not exactly fun,” she says, cracking a smile.

“I read it cover to cover so many times before I even met you attempting to figure out your brain.”

“Any luck yet?”

“No,” he shakes his head, and kisses her forehead. “But I will, some day.”

“In the mean time, wanna go pick up our daughter? I can’t promise she’ll be on her best behavior.”

“She probably gets that from me,” he retorts, and grabs his coat. “The grumpiness though is all you. That is a Scully trait, and the scowl.”

“I do not scowl.”

“Bullshit, Scully,” he says, locking the door behind him.

* * *

On day sixty, she gets her psych test results:

**DANA KATHERINE SCULLY: CLEARED FOR FIELD AGENT STATUS PENDING RECERTIFICATION.**

“Mulder!” She calls, as he comes out of Cara’s room. “What? I just put her down.”

With a grin, she hands him the paper. He beams, “Welcome back, Agent Scully. Well, almost... when is your physical and fire arm recertification test?”

“Next Tuesday. I’m not worried, I had a good personal trainer.”

“We could always do another work out?” He says, sliding his hands around her stomach. “Sex burns calories you know.”

His lips are on her neck and she’s powerless to stop him. “As a doctor, I do know all about the benefits of sexual intercourse, Fox Mulder.”

“Keep talking dirty and we won’t make it to the bedroom, Doc.”

* * *

“Scully, where can I put these?”

“These? Mulder they’re fish.”

“They’re my babies,” he says in mock horror. “Don’t listen to her Mollies, you are more than just fish.”

She rolls her eyes, as their actual baby starts to cry. Today, he’s moving in. Most of his things have been accumulating at her apartment anyway, but now it’s permanent. He let go of his lease that was up, and now their splitting rent.

It wasn’t a big deal, she asked him while they were brushing their teeth. A week later, here they were.

“Cara, where do you think the Mollies will look the best?”

“Put them under the television stand, I think the tank will fit,” she answers, as Cara makes a face. “That’s her poop face, Scully.”

“I just changed her, so I really hope your wrong.”

She goes to make a bottle, while he tries to fit it under the shelf, which it does perfectly. She watches as he stands back to admire his work, and hands him the baby. “I have to go,” she says, giving him the bottle. She’s in her workout clothes. It’s recertification day. “Wish me luck.”

“Don’t need it,” he says, giving her a quick kiss. “Plus, have I told you how fantastic your little legs look in those shorts?”

She was all muscle. Her tiny frame had snapped back with a lot of hard work. Her belly was almost gone, and she was back to her pre-pregnancy weight. She felt pretty damn good about herself, but she wasn’t about to let him get away with his comment. “Little?”

“Short?” He tries again, and she makes a face. “Sexy?”

“Better,” she says, and goes to grab her sneakers. “You can handle her right? I don’t need to call my mom?”

“I’ve watched her before,” he points out.

“That was an hour,” she reminds him. “This is an all day thing.” The physical strength portion was grueling and she also had her firearms recertification which she was looking forward to the most. “Go kick ass, Scully. I’m not completely incompetent.”

“I never said that,” she shakes her head laughing. “I just mean that it can be a lot.”

“Cara and I have plans that do not involve you, which we can get to once you leave.”

She quirks an eyebrow at him. “Plans?”

“A Knick’s game is on in an hour, and then we have the Yankees highlights followed by a rousing marathon of the Twilight Zone on BBC. We are booked solid.”

“Well, in that case, please carry on with your plans.”

Once she leaves, Cara looks at him, and he can smell it. “Great, thank you for that.”

* * *

Apparently having a baby, and returning from an abduction makes it impossible for her to skip Thanksgiving. Mulder, however is excited enough for the both of them. Cara is indifferent and she frowns as she puts her in the rosebud onesie and little leggings.

When he comes into her room holding a “My First Thanksgiving” onesie for Cara, she knows he’s going to be that embarrassing dad for the rest of her life. “Mulder...”

“It’s cute isn’t it?” He says, and looks at her. “But you dressed her...”

“I didn’t know you planned her outfit.”

“Scully, it’s her first Thanksgiving. It’s exciting. She has to look the part. Move over,” he says, as she steps back.

“All yours, honey.”

He looks at her, and grins. “You just honeyed me...”

“You misheard me,” she lies, quickly.

He just smirks.

* * *

Her mother opens the door for them, a little harried but with a giant grin on her face. “Dana, Fox,” she says, and swings the door open. “Can I take her?” A nod is enough permission her mother needs and she’s soon swooning over her outfit. “She is so cute in that!”

Mulder elbows her, “Told you.”

“Give me a bruise and I’ll make you sleep on the couch, sweetheart,” she says quietly for only him to hear. He just laughs, while the rest of her family descends on her mother and the baby.

She pulls him into the kitchen, and sees Melissa at the counter, uncorking a bottle of wine. “Hi,” she greets, “I assume mom took your child.”

They both nod, and she laughs. “Welcome to the drinking wine portion of the day, Fox.”

“Dana and I traditionally pre-game, just to make the whole experience better.”

“It makes talking to our relatives tolerable,” she cuts in, as her sister hands them both a generous pour. “But since you brought a baby, there will be no intrusive questions on your personal lives, well,” she pauses. “You will get the marriage question. Also, congrats Fox on knocking up my sister...” She shoots her a look. “What, it’s true.”

Mulder just laughs, and takes a long sip of wine. “Does all of your family know that?”

“Just me and mom. My brothers still think Dana was inseminated or something... but they know your together because nothing is sacred with my mother.”

“Speaking of, Bill and Charlie are here?”

“Living room,” she confirms. “Bill brought Tara so I’m betting he’s proposing over Christmas, and our nephews are currently beating one another up over the LEGO’s.”

“Twins. Alex and Eric,” she says, “they’re two.”

“According to Charlie, the terrible twos have hit them hard.”

“Do twins run in your family?” He asks, curiously.

She nods. “That and red hair.”

“Bill is brunette though, and Charlie is blonde.”

“Yes, but dad had red hair and mom obviously carried the gene.”

“Cara's red, so that means that you have too, Fox. Maybe your next one will have red hair too? Or maybe you’ll be blessed with twins.”

He almost spits out the wine. “Next one?”

“Well, here comes your current one,” she says, smiling as Maggie comes into the kitchen with a very fussy baby. “Dana, honey, I can give her a bottle.”

She nods, “I premade some and they’re in her bag, by the closet door.”

Her mother nods, and eyes them. “Wine already?”

“It’s tradition, mother,” Melissa says dramatically. “Plus we’re celebrating.”

“Celebrating?”

“Dana’s here,” she says, taking a sip. “And you’ve somehow managed to get every single one of us here, which is no small feat.”

“Your right,” Maggie concedes. “That is definitely worth a glass of wine. But first, I’m going to feed her.”

Melissa looks between the two of them, “You realize that Maggie Scully will be holding your daughter hostage for the rest of the day.”

They look at one another, and shrug. “More hands for wine?” He says, kidding.

Melissa laughs, and looks at her. “I like him.”

Her family is big. He’s met so many aunts, uncles and second cousins that he can’t remember first names. He makes a mental note to ask her for a family tree. The only person who really sticks out, is her Aunt Olive, who said he was sex on a stick. At seventy-nine, she was a former nun and quite the character. She apologizes, profusely later, but he finds it totally hilarious. Her family is thoroughly charmed by him, and her brothers regard him carefully. He understands, he would be the same way.

Dinner is pleasant, and loud. Unlike his thanksgiving pasts, he enjoys it. She can tell, as he has an animated discussion with Tara about the Kettering Incident in Tasmania.

She sits next to him, while Cara sleeps in her lap, surrounded by the utter chaos that is a typical Scully Thanksgiving. His hand is on her thigh, as he eats Maggie’s cherry pie, and his thumbs make gentle contact as he tells her repeatedly how good it is. She is grateful for this. For him and the baby in her lap.

Cara begins to stir, and she excuses herself to get her a bottle. He shoots her a look, one of which he’s silently asking if she wants him to do it, and she shakes her head. It’s fine. Between everyone hoovering over her daughter, she really doesn’t mind. She likes doing it. It’s always been just their time together.

Deciding to head up to her old room, she grabs the bag and goes upstairs. The silence is welcome. Her bed is made and inviting as she grabs a bottle. “Okay, monkey,” she says, positioning it to her mouth. Cara takes it greedily, and she leans against the headboard. She remembers their first night together, and touches her face. They’ve come a long way... a gentle knock on the door brings her out of her reverie. He pops his head in, before she can answer. “I couldn’t find you.”

“Yeah, sorry. I just needed...” breathing room.

“I get it,” he comes in. “I’ve never actually been up here.”

“You haven’t?” She furrows her eyebrows. “Really?” She could have sworn he had.

He shakes his head, “Nope.”

“This was my room when I was home from college...”

“You didn’t live at home?”

“No,” she shakes her head. “Eighteen year old Dana Scully was far too independent and I couldn’t rely on the fact that my dad could get reassigned any moment, which meant I could be screwed.”

He nods, taking that new information in. “This was also the nose ring and pink hair phase?”

“I regret telling you that,” she says, smiling.

“I still need those pictures, Scully.”

“I bet if you asked my mom nicely, she’d pull them out,” she teases. “I know she’d be more than happy to go down memory lane with the awkward years too.”

“No. I can’t see it.”

“I was the girl with glasses and braces, Mulder. Well, until fifteen when I got them off and contacts.”

“I bet you were a knockout.”

“I did grow into myself,” she concedes. “But I’m not Melissa. The boys were after her not me. I probably freaked them out with my nerdiness.”

“You nerdy? Never,” he quips, laughing.

“What were you like?”

“Man, okay. I was lanky, awkward and kind of a loner. High school wasn’t a good experience.”

“Me neither. But I can’t help but think young me would have really liked you.”

“You would have scared the shit out of me,” he laughs. “You still do.”

She can’t help but laugh at that. “I’m not scary.”

“Are you kidding? What you lack in height, Scully, you make up for in sheer confidence. You take absolutely no shit, and I’ve seen you go toe to toe with some powerful men. You are a force, Dana Scully, and if Cara gets even half of your strength, she’ll be absolutely fine.”

She can only hope. She wonders for the millionth time how she got so lucky with him.

* * *

On day seventy seven, she’s called in for a meeting with Assistant Director Skinner. She doesn’t have a sitter, and finds him in the basement. He’s listening to tapes, shocked she’s in front of him. “I just got summoned, can you watch her?” She asks, putting her car seat on the floor.

“Skinner?”

“Yeah, he wants to meet and said it was pertinent, so here I am.”

She nervously runs her hands though her hair. “My tights ran, and I’m pretty sure I have a unidentifiable stain on this skirt and...”

“Scully, breathe. I’m sure it’s going to be fine. Cara and I can go upstairs and start some rumors while your gone.”

“I’m sure I sparked some as I walked through the hall with her,” she laughs.

“You do know there’s a betting pool on us,” he says, taking her out of the car seat.

“Really?” She doesn’t want to believe it, but she’s found even Federal Agents can be rather juvenile. “I obviously can’t bet. I have insider information. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“Or you can give the wrong insider information and screw with them.”

“Now, there is a thought,” he smirks. “Cara, I hope one day you use your brains for good and not evil.”

She can only shoot him a look, as she heads out of the basement. The walk down the hall to his office seems long. She has a pit in her stomach and all she can think about is the fact that this is it. This is the end of her career. It’s over. She failed again.

His secretary Kim, greets her warmly and tells her he’ll be ready for her shortly and to take a seat. She nods. The bench is empty, and she wishes her mind was too.

“Oh, Agent Scully?”

Her head snaps up and she looks at Kim. “Congratulations on your daughter. Agent Mulder has been showing off pictures and she’s absolutely adorable.”

Of course he has. “Thank you,” she says, smiling. “She’s actually downstairs with him now, but maybe we can make a detour upstairs.”

Kim nods, “Please do.”

“Agent Scully,” Skinner greets opening the door. “Please come in.”

She gets up, and nods, giving Kim a smile as she shuts the door behind her.

“Take a seat,” he says, gesturing to the chair opposite to him. “Relax,” he says, as if he can read her mind. “This is good.” She takes a breath, and grins.

She settles in and looks at him, expectantly. “First, I want to say congratulations. I wanted to give you these in person,” he opens his desk drawer and slides her gun and badge to her. “And, I know your leave isn’t up yet...” she looks at him as she takes the leather badge in her hand. “But your scores for the firearm portion of the recertification test were so high, that I was wondering if you’d be interested in teaching the next class of cadets. You’d honestly be doing the bureau a big favor because Agent Hanson is being called in on a case.”

She liked Hanson. He was a hard ass, republican that took no bullshit. “It wouldn’t be until after your leave,” he assures her. “It’s just with your scores...”

“How’d I do?” She asks, taking the gun off the table. The cool metal in her finger tips was quite a power trip. “99.9% across the board in accuracy, precision and safety. Agent Scully, no one but Agent Hanson has ever scored that high.”

“Okay,” she says. “I’ll do it.”

“Thank you,” he sighs. “I was hoping you’d say yes.”

“I’ll email you the curriculum and dates.”

“Thank you,” she says, as he stands up. Taking her cue to leave, he stops her at the door. “Agent Scully?”

She turns around. “Off the record here, but Congratulations. Tell Agent Mulder too.”

She looks at him, smirking. “I will, sir.”

Once she’s out the door, she sees Mulder with Cara in his hip, wooing Kim.

“Oh, hey, Scully,” he says, casually. “She got bored of me, so we took a walk.”

He’s so full of shit, but it’s endearing how proud he is. “And happened to end up in AD Skinners office... what a coincidence, Agent Mulder.” He’s been had but Kim is too busy ogling Cara to notice. “What’s her name?”

“Cara,” they both say, Cara looks at her and smiles. She holds her arms out for her, a new thing, and she takes her from him.

“Kim, can you...” Skinner interrupts opening the door and looks between the two of them and then at Cara, wide eyed. “We’re just leaving sir,” she says, apologetically. “No it’s fine.” He looks to Kim, “Can you please reschedule my 2 PM?”

The expression on Skinners face has them both laughing as soon as they are in the hall. “Worth it,” she says, looking at him.

“You realize, he knows now, Scully.”

“He already did. He told me to tell you congratulations off the record.”

“I wonder how long it’ll be before he calls us out on the record...”

“Legally he can’t, unless it interferes with our work.”

He nods, and changes the subject. “So, lunch?”

“I could go for a salad.”

He makes a face. “I’ve never met anyone who craves salads.”

“I don’t crave a salad. I just like them. You were thinking what? A burger? Mulder, do I even have to begin to lecture you on heart disease?”

“If you didn’t try, I’d be worried.”

* * *

“ _Stop! No... please. Please stop. It hurts... it hurts... I’m pregnant. Don’t hurt it. Don’t hurt me.”_  
 _The masked man says nothing. She smells cigarette smoke on him._  
 _Her wrists are bound and she knows the leather is leaving marks. She is trying to fight, but she’s just so tired. So tired. She has no idea how long she’s been hostage, but the swell of her stomach is pronounced enough for her to know that it’s been a while._  
 _The baby is the only thing giving her the courage to fight. The will to live._  
 _She had been grocery shopping. She remembers that she needed to get the essentials and a test. She was late. Too late for it to be because of stress. She had the chip in her pocket, and set it off. She remembers calling him, and then waking up here. Wherever here was._  
 _The masked man had spread her legs, while she protested, kicking them widely at him. They were going to do something to her baby. He finally manages to strap them onto the table, and she couldn’t move. She could feel him taking cells, for what purpose she had no idea._  
 _He’s done. He’s finished, and injects her with a syringe. She tries not to fall asleep, but it’s out of her control. “No!”_  
 _“No! No, Stop!” It’s so real. So real. “Don’t touch me, you bastard!”_

“Scully, wake up it’s me. Dana, it’s me. Shh. I’m here. I’m here,” he soothes, as her eyes blink open. She’s in his arms, confused. It felt so real. She pulls away, and looks at him. Her body feels hot, and she feels the remnants of tears on her face. “Scully?”

Her hands go to her flat stomach, and she looks at him. “I suspected, Mulder.”

“You had a memory?”

She nods, tentatively. “It was so real it was like it was happening...” He waits, and touches her face. “That night, I went to the grocery store and bought a test. I remember that I had been feeling off... and then I remember a masked man in a sterile white room. My hands,” she touches her wrists, “I was bound. I couldn’t move them.”

He looks like he’s about to cry. “I’m sorry, I don’t have to...”

“No, keep remembering,” he urges. “It’s good to remember.”

She swallows, and continues. “I was probably seven months along, at least in this memory, and they took cells. They forced my legs open, and I could feel them doing things to me. After, they drugged me.” She looks at her wrists, like she can still feel being bound. “And then I woke up.”

He says nothing, and pulls her into his arms. It’s only then does she allow herself to cry. She feels his chest heave, and she knows he’s crying too. “Mulder,” she begins, slowly. “The masked man smelled of cigarettes.” She feels his body stiffen against her. He’s thinking the same thing she is.

“Morley's?”

She pulls away. The implications of what that means are huge. The same government they work for, most likely orchestrated her abduction, and return. “I don’t know...”

His expression is dark, one she's never seen before. “Mulder?”

He doesn’t answer. “Fox?”

He blinks, taken aback by his first name. She looks at him. She’s about to say something, when Cara starts to cry.

Right on time. It’s 3 AM.

She leaves, and goes to nursery. “Hey, it’s okay,” she says, picking her up. The tears stop, as she curls into her chest. “I got you,” she kisses her head. “I got you.”

She flicks the kitchen light on, and goes to the fridge. It’s automatic at this point, and she waits while the bottle warms in the microwave. Cara yawns, and as she runs her hand over her head.

Instead of bringing her back to the nursery, she heads to their bedroom, selfishly needing to be as close to her as possible. “Hey,” she says, sliding in next to him. He sits up, as she leans against the headboard. “I was thinking she could sleep with us.”


	3. Gone

She wakes up and he’s gone. A pit forms in her stomach as she looks at Cara. She has a feeling he’s going to do something impulsive.

She’s right.

“Assistant Director Skinner is...”

He doesn’t care. He opens the door of his office and finds Skinner on the phone. Slamming the door behind him, Skinner hangs up. “Agent Mulder, this is highly unprofessional...”

“Where is he?”

“Excuse me?”

“The cigarette smoking bastard,” he seethes, as anger flashes through his eyes. “Call him. Pick up that damn phone and request a meeting.”

“Agent Mulder-“

“I’m not asking here. CALL HIM,” he says, inches away from his face, his hands in fists.

“Step back, Agent Mulder,” he says, sternly. “Cool off.” Something snaps, and he backs away, taking a breath. “Tell me what is going on.”

“He’s apart of it. Scully’s abduction. The tests,” he knows isn’t making sense, but it’s the truth. “He took her.” Skinner looks at him, wearily.

“And you have evidence of this?”

He looks at him, with steely eyes. “I will get it.”

“Agent Mulder, he’s a powerful man, and you cannot flout accusations without evidence. Come back when you have your head on straight with evidence and I’ll be happy to nail him to a wall.” He knows now he had an ally in Skinner, and he promises he will if it’s the last thing he ever does.

“Also, Agent Mulder, as of this morning, the x-files are now reopened.”

* * *

She tries to call him, but she gets his voicemail at both the office, and his cellphone. Needing something to do, she decides to take Cara for a walk.

The park is ten minutes from the apartment, and it’s a beautiful day. Too beautiful to be worried about Mulder.

People are out, running, pushing their kids in carriages and walking dogs. It all feels so normal, that she forgot she’s one too- one of those normal people.

She finds a bench, and sits rolling the carriage back and forth as Cara sleeps. She isn’t paying much attention to anything until she hears a voice that makes her blood run cold. “Anyone sitting here, Agent Scully?”

She turns her head to face him. He’s smoking a cigarette, and she wants to get as far away from him as possible, but she doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction of leaving. “She is beautiful,” he says, gesturing to her sleeping daughter. “She looks like you, but I’m seeing a little bit of Agent Mulder as well.” She bites back the urge to take her gun out.

“What do you want?” Her voice is hard, she wants answers.

“The same that any man wants I suppose,” he says, taking a long drag. “Power, money, love. What everyone in life is searching for.”

“Cut the bull shit,” she says, pointedly. “Why are you here?”

“I came to speak to you. To warn you, actually,” he flicks the ash onto the cement, and looks her squarely in the eye. “Bringing you back was a gift. When we took you, we had no idea you were with child, or that it was Fox Mulder’s child.” She sucks in a breath, and grits her teeth, as he continues. “That was very fortunate for us. We intended on using you as a bargaining chip. He needed to stop. He was getting to close to finding answers that needed to stay in the dark.” He takes another long drag, and looks at Cara. “Someone has reopened the X-files, and he needs to stay away, or he will loose what he loves the most.” He stubs the cigarette out on the bench. “I trust you can do that, Agent Scully,” he adds, and stands up. “Oh, by the way, if he does heed this warning, I will find a way to give him what he seeks the most.”

She watches as he walks away, taking her finger off her gun only when he is completely out of sight. Cara, as if she senses her discomfort, starts to cry. Turning the carriage around, she unbuckles her, and lifts her to her chest. “I feel the exact same way,” she says, kissing her.

xxxx

She calls him, immediately, as Cara clings to her chest. His appearance at the park, left her a little on edge, and she needs him.

He doesn’t answer, so she tries again. Voicemail. The pit in her stomach, just got so much bigger.

Mulder pick up your god damn phone, she thinks, as she paces the apartment. Just when she gives up her phone rings, “Agent Scully, have you heard from Agent Mulder?” It’s Assistant Director Skinner says, quickly.

“No, I’ve been trying to reach him. Is it urgent?”

“It is, but if you do hear from him please let me know.”

“I will sir,” she says, hanging up the phone, wondering what he’s managed to get himself into. She calls her mother, refusing to worry by the phone for the rest of the day. She asks if she can take Cara, and of course, she says yes.

She drops her off, looking like the professional Agent she is, and kisses Cara on the forehead. “I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

“Dana?” Her mother looks at her with questioning eyes, “you’ll be safe?” She doesn’t answer. She has no idea.

“Mom, I’m coming back... with Mulder.”

Her mother nods, as she gives Cara one long look, with her eyes full of promises. “I love you,” she whispers, before walking away.

She needs to retrace his steps and heads for his office. She leaves her badge in the car, and has to go through the front, using the civilian entrance. “Agent Scully,” Gary says, greeting her with a smile. “They making you use the main entrance now?”

She gives him a grin. “I left my badge in the car.”

He motions for her to come through the metal detector. It goes off.

Confused, she has nothing on her. “Any new jewelry?”

She shakes her head. “Just my usual.” She checks her pockets. Nothing. “You don’t mind do you?” He asks holding the wand.

“No, go ahead.”

It goes off again. “Can I try?” She has an idea, and it makes her go cold. She holds it over the back of her neck. The unidentifiable scar, she found post abduction. A scar so small, that she hadn’t given it much thought. She touches it, reflexively. Her finger feels around, and she goes pale. “Gary,” she begins, and turns around. “Put the wand where that mark is.”

He does. It goes off again. His eyes go wide. “What is that?”

She looks at him, “I have no idea.”

“You can go through, Agent Scully.”

Duane Barry had the same scar. It was where she had taken out his chip, when she autopsied him. She needed that damn chip.

She finds his office empty. Save for a few files on his desk, she heads over to see what he was working on. It’s her file. She’s never read it. The other one is Duane Barry’s. He must have made the connection, she thinks, and pinches the bridge of her nose.

_“Mulder, where are you?”_

* * *

She takes both files, and heads upstairs. She needs to speak to him. Now.

“Agent Scully?”

“Is he available?”

The door is already open. “You can come in, Agent.”

“Sir, he’s not answering me and these were on his desk,” she says, handing him the files. “Mine and Duane Barry’s.”

Skinner sighs, wearily. He tells her of his meeting with Mulder. He tells her that he was making accusations of her abduction being perpetuated by the government.

She sits, and listens growing even more concerned about Mulder’s state of mind. “Sir,” she says, “the cigarette smoking man also paid me a visit this morning when I was at the park with Cara.”

“Does he know this?”

She shakes her head, “I was going to tell him but he hasn’t answered and now I’m concerned he’s in danger.” Wouldn’t be the first time, she thinks. “Since Cara, he’s even more protective and...” she sighs. “I told him very personal things about my captivity last night, and he didn’t take it well.” He stares at her, as she shifts in the chair.

“Agent Scully, I’m going to be frank here,” he begins, “the X-files we’re reopened this morning from an order that came down from much higher than me. It was requested that he be reassigned alone.”

“I was warned about that, sir. The smoking man told me that I had to convince him to leave it, or that something would happen to Cara.”

“He threatened your daughter?”

“In not so many words. The man likes to hear himself talk.”

“Where is she now?”

“My mother has her at her house.”

“I’m calling for a protective order on both of them, right now.”

He picks up the phone, and it’s done within minutes. She feels only slightly better, but knows she has a hell of a lot of explaining to do to her mother. “Thank you.”

“Agent Scully, it’s the least I can do.”

He’s right. It is.

“Officially, I’m reinstating you today. Go find him.”

She nods, and grabs the files. “I will.”

It’s not a promise, it’s a hope.

* * *

He’s confused. Everything is so bright, and he feels cold. When he looks down, he’s in a hospital gown. His wrists are bound, like hers were and he knows this where she was taken. God, his stomach clenches, and he feels sick.

“Ah, Agent Mulder, so nice of you to join me.”

He smells of cigarettes, and when he finds the man, sitting in the corner of the room, with a nefarious grin on his face he wants to kill him. If he hadn’t been strapped down, he very well may have.

“Do you like the accommodations? Agent Scully didn’t. She was bound because she kept trying to escape. We had to keep her under sedatives and it was easier to keep her immobile the more heavily pregnant she became.” Now he really wants to murder him. “Imagine our surprise when we found out you two had been together, after we got the results of her amniocentesis. You had to have known that we had been watching you two since the beginning, but we had no idea you had acted on your feelings. It ended up being very fortuitous, which is also what I told her when I spoke with her today at the park with your daughter.”

“Stay the fuck away from them,” he spits, struggling with the bounds.

He just laughs, taking a drag. “You won’t remember this conversation, Agent Mulder. Our memory serum is highly affective at removing the ones we want. It’s almost like we play god.”

“You’re a monster,” he chokes out. “A fucking devil.”

“On the contrary, I’m doing you both a favor. You see the men I work with, and there is a network of us, wanted to kill her. I was against it, and when we found out she was pregnant, it quite frankly, saved her life. She was to be used as a bargaining chip, one to get you to stop looking for her.”

He realizes what he saying. “You wanted me to stop looking for my sister. Samantha.”

“Samantha is gone Fox.”

“Why? Why take an innocent eight year old.”

He looks at him, and there is a soullessness about him. “I suppose I can tell you. It doesn’t matter anyway, considering you won’t remember.” He pauses, and takes a drag. “Samantha used was payment. You see, the Aliens have been here, since the crash in 47’. The only way to stop them from colonization was to give what we hold dear to us: family members. Each of us, gave a family member in exchange for an Alien fetus. Your father, chose your sister. Initially, it was supposed to be you, but your mother stopped him.”

“My parents were apart of this?”

“They are apart of it, Fox. You’re father is so deeply imbued in the cabal, that despite trying to extricate himself, you’ve been paying for his mistakes. We give you just enough of the truth to satisfy your curiosity. We control the information and your just another pawn.”

“I’m not maneuverable,” he spits out.

“Actually, you are. It is Agent Scully who isn’t. She’s proved to be quite a formidable opponent. Her ability to reel you in, and make you see reason had become somewhat of a problem. That fetus, she found, at the defense department was the same one that we traded for. It holds a vaccine to stop colonialization.”

“The purity control that we found...”

“Beginning stages of vaccine.”

“She traded that for my sisters life.”

“Your sister is dead, Fox. That was a clone. They’re are many Samantha's. She’s cloned with Alien DNA.”

His head is spinning. “What happened to her?”

He wants to know, but a big part of him doesn’t. “She died at fourteen. She killed herself.” He says easily, and it makes him infuriated. “When they were returned, or most of them anyway, they weren’t the same. They were chipped, like the one you’ve found in Ray Soames and Duane Barry, and were subjected to reoccurring abductions where they were tested on like lab rats. The technology of those initial chips, is something we now used for our own testing. Alien abductions is a smoke screen for our own purposes. The chip we use monitors everything: the subjects health data, and memory... We couldn’t use the vaccine on Agent Scully, because of her pregnancy, but we did insert a chip in the base of her neck, that if removed will kill her.”

“You bastards!”

“Easy Fox, so long she never removes it, she will live out her natural life.”

“They wanted to chip your daughter too, but I didn’t, so you should be thanking me for that.”

He stares at him, and his nostrils flare. “I would never, in a million years, thank you for anything.”

The man just laughs, and walks over to him. “As thrilling as this is, I’m going to give you a sedative now.”

The cigarette smoking man holds a syringe, and then... blackness.

* * *

He’s just gone, and it’s been a week of radio silence. There’s been a task force issued, and Agents working around the clock to find him, and officially, she cannot be on it. Unofficially, he tells her that she has the best chance of finding him.

She reads her file, thoroughly. There are no real surprises, but his case notes when she initially disappeared are tear stained and telling. There’s a photo of her bound and gagged in Duane Barry’s car. It makes her want to throw up. He writes about how there was no trace evidence and that they found Barry at the top of a hill, screaming madly at the sky.

> **_They are never going to get me again._ **

It sticks out. They. She knows exactly what he’s saying and she shivers thinking about it.

She throws herself into work, and her mother frets over her, while she stays at her house. She feels better not being alone.

It’s midnight, and she antsy. She barely sleeps anymore, and wonders if he felt like this too. It’s a unique perspective being the one left behind. She can’t be reckless, because she has Cara to think about, who is the only person on Earth keeping her sane.

“Dana, it’s late. You should try to get some sleep.” She tries not to scoff, and knows her mother is trying to be a voice of reason. She’s on her third (fourth?) cup of coffee, and in the middle of cross referencing every case she could pull out of the basement that mentioned a chip.

“Dana, I’m worried about you,” she says, regarding her carefully. “You’ve lost weight, you’re not sleeping... I know I don’t have to tell you, but it’s not healthy.”

“I need to find him,” she says, wide eyed. “I need to bring him back.”

“You know, he was exactly the same. When you were gone,” she clarifies. “He had the same look on his face.”

“Scared shitless?”

“No, determined.”

“The stakes are different, mom.”

“How?”

“Because it isn’t just me,” she sighs. “I...” her voice is breaking, and all she can do is think about Cara sleeping peacefully upstairs.

“Cara?”

“I feel like I’m failing her each and every second he’s gone.”

“Dana, that’s not true. You know Fox would do anything he could to come back if he could.”

She nods, tears forming in her eyes. “What if... he doesn’t?”

Her mother doesn’t answer.

* * *

It’s New Year’s Eve, and Cara is five months old.

Fox Mulder is still missing. He’s been gone for a month, and there are no new leads. The task force was disbanded a week ago, and it feels like they’ve given up. His disappearance is considered an active case file, much like hers was, and she refuses to give up.

She was gone for six months, and he held it together, but she is slowly falling apart at the seams. She’s back in therapy, two times a week, just to talk out her anxiety and it helps... somewhat. The unknown hangs over her head like a sword on a string.

Her mother takes Cara while she goes to work, and she picks her up at five every night. The new routine so different without him, and she misses him at the oddest moments.

Tonight, she watches the ball drop with her daughter on her lap, nursing a bottle while Auld Sing Lane plays ringing in 1995. Couples kiss and people hug celebrating a new year. A new beginning. She cries, big wet tears, in envy. Their happiness is utterly painful. She turns off the television, and gently stands up, trying not to jostle the bottle out of Cara's mouth. “Me and you kid,” she says, as Cara looks at her with her big blue inquisitive eyes. “Maybe this year, your Daddy will be back.”

Cara cracks a smile, popping the bottle out of her mouth. “You miss him too, don’t you? I’m sure once he’s back he’ll probably introduce you to the outer limits, since you two are hooked on old Twilight zone episodes.” She sighs, and sits on the bed, pulling the covers over them. She kisses her head, and looks at her. “You’re my New Years kiss this year, Cara.”

* * *

She gets a call in the middle of the night. Her mind races, as Skinner informs her that she needs to get to Georgetown Memorial Hospital.

She hangs up, in complete shock before she even got the chance to ask what his status was. All she heard was alive.

He was alive.

She rushes, pell-mell to the hospital not bothering to change out of her pajamas. She doesn’t care. Changing seems unimportant when the love of her life is alive.

Cara is strapped to her chest, in the carrier, and she sees him right away. “Is it true? Is he here?”

“Agent Scully, wait. Slow down.”

“I need to see him,” she says, her voice breaking. “I have to see him, Skinner.”

“You’ll see him,” he promises, and she senses a but coming. “But...” There it was. “I need to inform you of his condition so that your prepared.”

“Condition?”

“Agent Scully, he’s been sedated since he was found.” She quirks and eyebrow at that. “Found?”

“He was found off I-95 in a hospital gown, barefoot and disoriented. An older couple brought him here, but he’s been less than cooperative since. They had to sedate him because he’s been dangerous.”

“He’d never hurt me,” she says, looking him in the eye. Never. “Physically, he had scarring on his face, and inside his mouth. He was subjected to testing, and they’re trying to figure out what. He’s been malnourished, and they have him being fed on an IV. If you seen him, you can’t bring her with you.”

“I’m not leaving her,” she looks at him incredulously. “He’d never hurt her either.”

“I can get a nurse to watch her,” he offers, “just for now...”

She realizes she has little choice. “Fine,” she says, and undoes the carrier, freeing the baby. She hands Cara to him, and takes the straps off her shoulder. Reaching into her coat pocket, she pulls out a pacifier. “This should help if she needs it,” she says, touching her head. “What room?”

“1013, and the guards already know your here.”

She nods, and turns completely terrified and exhilarated. Her mind is a mess and her emotions are all over the place when she finally steps into his room. “Mulder,” she croaks out, taking in his appearance. Skinner didn’t sugar coat anything, she thinks, and goes to the side of his bed, pulling the chair up next to it. She hesitates, briefly before touching his hand. “Mulder? Can you open your eyes for me?” She asks, hoping that he will. “Cara is here. We’re both fine,” she begins, as her breath hitches. “God, please talk to me.”

His hand moves, and she almost jumps out of her chair. His eyes try to open. “Come on, it’s me. Open your eyes,” she leans up and runs her fingers through his hair. “It’s me, Mulder. Scully.”

He blinks his eyes open, and she smiles. He stares at her, as if he doesn’t recognize her. “Who are you?”

Her face falls, and he grins. “Jesus Christ, Mulder, don’t do that to me.” Her eyes are tears and she shakes her head. “I had you, Scully,” he croaks. She gets up to pour him a glass of water. “Drink, it will help your voice.”

“Where’s the munchkin?”

“Skinner has her. I wasn’t allowed in with her because apparently you were dangerous, and had to be sedated.”

“I don’t remember that.”

“I’ll go get her,” she says, smiling. “She’s missed you too.”

“Scully?” He says, stopping her. “They didn’t take all my memories.”

She has no idea what he means by that, and nods. She finds Skinner, holding Cara in his lap, and she plucks her into her arms. “He’s fine, sir. She’ll be okay.”

“He’s awake?”

“Yeah, still his same smart ass self too, if you want to see him.”

“No, I’ll talk to him later,” he says standing up, knowing that it was their time.

“Come on Cara, lets go see Daddy.”

* * *

The look on his eyes when he sees her, makes her wish she had a camera. “Scully, what have you been feeding her?”

She just laughs, “She’s gone through a growth spurt and we’ve introduced veggie purées.”

“So, she’s eating human food. I missed a lot huh?”

She shrugs, and hands him the baby. “Doesn’t matter. You are here now.”

Cara climbs up his chest, and puts both her baby hands on his face. “I missed you too, Cara,” he says, nuzzling her nose. The baby smiles widely.


	4. Moving Forward

He’s almost back to himself. The scars are faded, on his face to hues of purple, and he’s much stronger than he was a week ago. A week of him in the hospital grated at both of them. It was a precaution, and since he was a federal agent they kept him there until it was certain that he was okay.

As a doctor, she knew he was fine after day three.

She had to holdback her tongue several times, because nothing in life was certain. In the span of a year both of them had been abducted. Both of them had traumas and a lot of healing to do. She came home from hers with a baby, and he came back from his with severe PTSD. The first time she turned the garbage disposal on, he screamed, and covered his ears like someone was physically hurting him. He was hated sharp objects (scissors especially) and had nightmares. Those were the worst.

His physical recovery was fast. His mental one was proving to be a lot slower. They tortured him. They had metal objects sunk into his teeth to keep his mouth open while they drilled into his palate. He had permanent indentations on his ankles from the leg restraints, and his wrists were still raw from being bound to the table. He was he had scars on his abdomen, and identifiable marks on his back.

You wouldn’t have guessed he’d been through that much physical pain, as he laughed with the baby on the couch, holding her above his head and making her giggle.

He was on mandated leave, pending a full psych evaluation, so his days were spent with Cara, making up for lost time.

Cara loved it. She’d come home and the baby would be in such a good mood that the stress of the day would just melt off her shoulders.

“Hi,” she says, slipping off her coat and tossing her keys in the glass bowl. The usual clang, made Cara look up. “Mama!”

He looks at her, and smirks. “Take your baby, Mama.”

She puts the takeout on the counter, and holds her arms. Once she scoops her into her arms, she looks at him. “How was your day?”

“Full Sesame Street and naps,” he quips, as she gives him a quick kiss. “She’s so much more active.”

She nods, and slides her heels off. Her feet have been sore all day, and she is glad to finally be rid of them. “This age is pretty fun,” she agrees, grabbing plates out of the cabinet. “Plus the whole rolling over thing is like having a puppy.”

She shoots him a look. “She’s a baby not a dog.”

He can only laugh, as he gets up to help her. “So, beer or wine?”

“A beer is fine.”

She opens the container of chicken, scooping some on her plate and grins. “Wait.”

“Hmm?”

“I just realized what today is...” he looks at her. “Uh, Tuesday?”

“I know you suck at dates, so I’ll forgive you.”

“Your not going to tell me?”

“No, I am,” she says, shifting Cara to her other hip. “You kissed for the first time at the park.”

“Oh,” he says, remembering. “That day. I never pegged you for the type of girl to get all sentimental about dates.”

“Technically, that’s the first kiss I remember,” she shoots back, with a smirk. “Considering I still don’t have the memory Puerto Rico.”

“It’s a good thing I do, we can re-enact it sometime.”

“I could be amenable to that,” she says, teasing him.

“Or I can give you a preview,” he says, leering at her. He moves closer, so that he’s in her personal space, his hands are on her hips as Cara turns and pulls on his shirt. “Okay, maybe later...”

She can only laugh, and shifts Cara to him. “After dinner?”

“I’ll hold you to that, Scully.”

* * *

His screaming woke both her and Cara up. It was 2 AM and she was jolted from sleep at the sounds of his nightmare. “Mulder, it’s me. I got you,” she says, touching him. “Its just a nightmare.”

His eyes blink open, and his hair is mused from tossing and turning. “Scully?”

“Yeah,” she says, softly. “Just me. I’m going to get Cara...”

“I woke her,” he frowns, sighing.

“It’s fine, really. We’d be up in an hour anyway so maybe she can take her bottle earlier.”

Night feeds were her thing, since he spent the entire day with her. Cara was wide awake, when she peered into the crib. “Hi,” she says, picking her up. “Sorry, Daddy woke you. He woke me too,” she whispers, giving her a kiss. “So, should we try a bottle or do you wanna sleep with us?”

That was another thing she had to get used to. When he was gone, they co-slept. Now, due to his nightmares she knew that wouldn’t be happening anytime soon. Deciding the baby wasn’t fussing, she brought her into the bedroom. “Scully, I’m so sorry.”

“Mulder, don’t apologize. If anyone understands it’s me.”

“That is for sure,” he retorts, sleepily.

“Was it a bad one?” She asks, slipping under the covers, still holding Cara.

“Yeah, it was,” he says, quietly. She never pushed him to elaborate. He would tell her if he needed to get it out, but most of the time, he would just pretend it hadn’t happened.

She lays her down between them, and scoots under the blanket. “Do you at least talk about them in therapy?”

“Yeah,” he nods, looking at Cara. “Mostly I try to work through my triggers.”

She nods, it’s a rough road. “I couldn’t stand small spaces. One time, mom shut the bathroom door accidentally and found me sobbing clutching my knees while rocking back and forth. I get it, Mulder.”

He kisses her, softly. “I know. I just don’t want to bother you with my issues.”

“We’re partners. Your issues are mine, too,” she reminds him. “I’m here, so don’t try to keep me away.”

“I love you, you know that, right?”

“I know,” she smiles. “And I love you too, which means that I also love you through the hard shit.”

“We’ve had a lot of hard shit, haven’t we?”

She nods, “But it balances out.”

“How’d you get so wise?”

“Being almost thirty one helps...”

“Next week,” he says, with a smile. “Thirty one.”

“I think I’ll remember your birthday this year.”

“Oh, how considerate... I think I’ll remember yours too. October, right?” She smirks.

* * *

It was a Thursday, and as Mulder liked to say, a pre-Friday. For the first time in years, she was looking forward to celebrating it. At thirty-one, she earned every single scar, wrinkle and gray hair life had given her, which she proudly wore like a badge of honor.

She woke up to a tiny face in hers, and Mulder standing at her bedside with a snoball that had three candles in it. “Make a wish, Scully.”

She was stumped. “Mulder, I actually have no idea what to wish for... everything is right here.”

“Be selfish, Scully, and don’t tell me,” he says, as she sits up and puts Cara in her lap. She leans over and blows, and all three candles go out. “A snoball?” She raises an eyebrow.

“I can’t bake, and the supermarket ran out of hostesses,” he quips. “Also, do you know how hard it is to go to the supermarket with her? We got stopped like ten times by people telling me how cute she is, and I could barely remember what I needed to buy.”

“It’s so hard when you have a cute baby,” she teases him, and Cara giggles as she tickles her ribs.

“Mama mama mama,” she chants, happily.

“We are working on Dada, but she just stubbornly repeats mama.”

“Mamamamama!”

She can’t help but laugh, “Sorry, Mulder.”

He puts the cupcake on the side of the bed, and crawls back on his side. “Don’t make plans tonight.”

“Oh, why?” She doesn’t have any and he knows this, but it’s fun to play along.

“Well, I can’t tell you. It’s a surprise.” Cara looks at him, “Mama.”

“Dada,” he tries, again. “I’m Dada.”

Cara frowns, as if she’s considering it. “Da.”

“Wait, Scully did she just...”

“Da!” She says clearer. “Dadadada!”

His eyes water, and Cara holds her arms to him. “Da!”

He picks her up, and kisses her cheeks.

“Maybe one of my wishes already came true, Mulder,” she says, giving him a kiss and gets up to take a shower.

* * *

When she lets herself into the apartment, the first thing she notices is that it’s clean. Spectacularly so, and her appliances sparkle. She was used to a mess, she had to let herself not be so type-a because babies made messes.

“Mulder?” She calls sliding her coat off.

“Hi,” he says, coming out of the bedroom. He’s in a suit, and definitely likes what she sees. His uniform had become jeans and t-shirts, which was fine, but that suit in particular was her favorite. It was the charcoal Armani he wore on their first date.

“Hi,” she breathes. “Don’t you clean up well. Where’s Cara and why is the apartment so clean?”

“First, Cara is with your mother for the night and secondly, I know how much you like the smell of bleach...”

“The whole night?” She smiles, amused.

“I’m picking her up tomorrow morning,” he says, putting his hands around her waist. “So that means, I have you completely to myself.”

“Is that so?” She plays with his tie, and gives him an impish grin. He scoops her up and she laughs, “Mulder! Mulder what about dinner? You’re in a suit.”

“We can think of something later, and I’d much rather enjoy you.”

She nods. The sounded like an excellent idea.

She hadn’t thought it was possible, but she was officially over-sexed. She was sore, tired and completely euphoric. “That was a record,” she says, when she finally catches her breath.

“We can go again...”

“Later,” she promises, and looks at him. “I’m hungry and I think you said something about dinner.”

“Chinese?”

“Yeah,” she says, as he grabs his boxers off the floor, and slides them on. It’s a view she never, ever gets tired of.

Deciding she should probably get up too, she finds his dress shirt, and throws it on. It hits her upper thigh, and she heads into the kitchen. He’s just hung up the phone, as she goes to the get a glass.

“Twenty minutes,” he says, and she nods, turning the faucet on. Sex always made her thirsty. “Remind me to leave my shirts on the floor more often. It looks so much better on you.”

She takes a long drink and looks at him, “I’ll make note. Twenty minutes?”

“Yeah,” he says, and pulls her against him. “Twenty whole minutes... what should we do to pass the time?”

“We can go make out on the couch like teenagers?”

“There’s an idea,” he says, pulling her hand almost tripping over the coffee table.

It’s officially the best birthday she’s ever had, as they feed each other Chinese food and watch her favorite horror movies. His arm is around her, and her head is on his chest. His fingers run through her hair, and just as the credits roll she yawns.

“Scully?”

“Hmm.”

“I want another baby.”

That gets her attention, and she pushes away from him, sitting up. “This second?”

“No,” he laughs, shaking his head. “I was thinking about Cara and...”

He doesn’t have to say it, she understands completely. She’d be lying if she said she never thought about it too. They both missed so much the first time.

“You want another one,” she says, slowly as a smile plays at her lips. “We have proof that we do make cute babies.”

He grins, “So your not opposed to it.”

She shakes her head. “We both know what we’re in for and if I were to get pregnant soon, they’d be over 16 months apart. I’m not getting any younger either...”

“You’re barely thirty one,” he laughs, surprised she’s considering it.

“I can stop taking my pills, and we can just see what happens. Play roulette with my reproductive system.”

“You can,” he says, as she leans back against him, getting herself comfortable again. “If you want. It’s easy for me to say, I don’t do the hard part.”

“Let’s try,” she says, looking up at him. Truly meaning every word. “I want to have another one of your babies, Mulder.”

He rubs his hand up her arm, “Are you sure it’s not my birthday? It seems like I’m getting all the gifts today.” His eyes widen and he gets up quickly. “Wait, I’ll be right back.”

Two minutes later, he’s back, holding a very poorly wrapped box in one hand and a blue envelope in the other. He gives her the envelope first as he sits down. “So that’s the first part...”

She looks at him, incredulously as she slides her finger under the paper. “First part?”

“Just read and then I’ll give you the box.”

She quirks and eyebrow at him. “Are you always so bossy about gift giving?” Now it’s his turn to rolls his eyes.

The card is cute- it has a Alien head on it- which earns him a look, and when she opens it she begins to read. “Scully, this is two part gift, this one is to let you know that we have tickets for Puerto Rico for whenever you can get vacation time— so, that I can truly show you exactly what happened that night. Also, I cleared this with your sister and mother who are happy to have Cara for an entire week.”  
She is teary eyed, and he looks at her. “Mulder...” she's so touched, by his thoughtfulness that she wants to cry. “Hold off on the tears until the next one,” he says handing it to her. “Did you wrap this?”

“Yes, and I know it’s horrible.”

She chuffs a laugh, and carefully opens the box. “I saw you eyeing them the other day and...”

There are the beautiful suede black ankle boots that she’d been thinking about since they walked out of the store. “Don’t wear them to work, because we both know they’ll somehow get ruined.”

She laughs, and slips them on. Size six. She stands, and he looks at her approvingly. “Between those boots and my shirt...”

“Thank you,” she says, sincerely and pulls him into a hug. “I love both of them.”

“You and your shoes are going to need a separate closet soon.”

“It’s a weakness,” she says, looking at her feet. “They’re so perfect.” She kisses him, and he’s surprised. It’s slow, and gentle, until suddenly it isn’t. He’s on top of her, on the couch, and it’s getting really really heated. “Mulder,” she says when they break apart, “take me to bed.”

“Will you keep the heels on?”

* * *

“Scully, are you okay?” He asks, concerned knocking on the bathroom door. She feels like shit, and has a sinking suspicion as to why. “I’m fine,” she calls. “The flu has been going around at Quantico.”

“In April?”

“Mulder, flu season can last this long...”

“We are still on for Lunch later, right?”

Her stomach rolled at that thought. “Yeah, sure,” she bites down her tongue, willing the nausea to pass. She has a stash of pregnancy tests under the sink, since they started trying. She picked them up, on a whim, full of hope.

Today, it seemed like it might be time to test her theory.

Once the world stopped spinning she grabbed a box, and ripped open a test. She read the directions, and knew that in about five minutes she would have her answer.

The time seemed to pass slowly, and she kept glancing anxiously at her watch.

She grins, her five minutes were up. When she finally looks down, she sees the two pink parallel lines.

“Mulder!” She calls, and he rushes in, full of worry.

She hands him the pregnancy test, and he stares at it for the briefest moment before realizing that it’s positive. “No. No way.”

His hand goes to her belly. “We’re having another baby.”

She nods, biting back tears. “We’re having another baby.”

“Holy shit,” he grins, beaming at her.

* * *

He’s with her at the first appointment, and holds her hand as they do the internal ultrasound and exam. Everything is normal and she’s so very relieved when she hears that she almost starts to cry.

The doctor, pauses, and she feels her heart sink.

“Dana, do twins run in your family?

He pales, as her eyes find exactly what her doctor is pointing to. “Twins?”

“Yes, and by what I’m seeing your due date is November 22nd.”

Her jaw drops. “Mulder, that means mostly likely on my birthday or a week after... it’s like you willed this,” she says, shaking her head in wonder.

He can only laugh, and grip her hand tighter. “Twins are pretty awesome though.”

She softens, “Yeah.”

“You guys want a print out?”

“Two please,” she says, and takes a breath. She glances to her stomach, wondering how big she’s going to get. It’s one thing for a singleton pregnancy but a twin pregnancy was different. “We will see you back here in twelve weeks for the next scan,” she says, and offers another congratulations.

Once the door is shut, they look at one another, stunned. “We’re going to need more space,” she finally says, and her mind goes to the million other things they’re going to need two of. “Hey,” he says, cutting into her thoughts. “Breathe, we got this. Are you happy about it?”

“Yes,” she says without hesitation. “I think I’m just trying to process. It’s a lot.”

“Me too,” he says, “Come on, let’s go celebrate and process together.”

She nods, and he hands her skirt to her. “No wonder I already have a little bump. I was wondering why it was there so early... with Cara I didn’t show this early.” She also hadn’t even known she was pregnant and by the time she was abducted she had been 12 weeks.

“This is gonna be a learning curve for both of us, Scully.”

“Twins...”

“I know,” he says, as she slides her skirt over her hips.

“I’m growing two humans right now,” she says, amazed. “Just because we had sex.”

“Scully, you’re a doctor. You know this intellectually and from experience,” he quips teasing her.

“It’s called shock, Mulder. My vocabulary has been reduced to simple phrases.” She toes on her shoes as he hands her, her jacket.

“Ah, there she is,” he retorts, she leads him out of room.

* * *

She tells her mother first, only because she’s popped quite literally over night. Her small bump has become a noticeable swell. He’s annoyingly sweet and attentive that it’s driving her up a wall, but when she reminds herself that this is because of what they missed she bites back her tongue. He’s utterly obsessed with her changing body, especially her breasts, and touches her frequently. That, however, she doesn’t mind. She amazed by it too.

“Mom,” she begins, as Cara babbles in her lap, more interested in the plastic keys in her mouth than anything at the moment . “I have something I need to tell you.”

They both have a mug of tea in front of them, and she’s a ball of nerves. “I don’t know if I’m going to make it to Thanksgiving this year.”

“Dana, that’s absurd it’s May and you can’t possibly know that.”

She bites back a grin. “I might not make it because it’s around my due date.”

Her mother gasps, “You’re pregnant!?”

She nods in confirmation. “There’s more...” Maggie’s eyes widen. “It’s, um, twins.”

Her mother is crying, and goes to give her a hug. “I’m so so happy for you, Dana. Well, Fox too,” she laughs.

“He did participate,” she quips, laughing. “This was planned. The twin part was a surprise.”

“I imagine it would be,” her mother says, sitting back down. “Wow. How have you been feeling?”

“Pretty good, actually, considering how sick I was in the beginning.”

“Now that you told me, you do have a glow about you.”

“That’s what Mulder said this morning too,” she pauses and fiddles with her necklace. “You’re okay with this?”

“Dana, why on earth wouldn’t I be? I’m a little more modern then you give me credit for.”

“I’m not married and...” she trails off thinking of her father. It finally dawns on her mother why she’s asking.

“Your father was far more traditional than me, and he would get over that fact because Cara is amazing and Fox absolutely adores you.”

She needed to hear that. “I just know I made a lot of choices that he didn’t agree with.”

“Dana, your father ever only wanted you to be happy.” She pauses, “Are you?”

“I’m so happy, it scares me,” she admits, cautiously. “Everything is just too good.”

“And your waiting for the other shoe to drop? Don’t. Life is short, Dana. Let yourself be happy.”

She grins, and takes a breath. Maybe there is some truth to her mothers words.

* * *

“Mulder!” Her hands move to where she felt the pressure. “Mulder!”

It’s there again, and her eyes widen in amazement. “Scully? You okay?” He asks, finally hearing her call for him. She’s in the bathroom, was in the middle of brushing her teeth when it happened. She grabs his hand, and puts it right were she felt it before. He waits, and smiles. “Did- was that-“

“A kick,” she says, beaming. “One of them is showing off.”

She lifts up her t-shirt, and grabs his hand so it’s on her skin and puts it on the other side of her belly. “Was that a heel?”

She can only laugh. “Yeah, that was a heel.”

“This is amazing. What does it feel like?”

“It’s like a pressure, it feels really strange. Alien.”

“So, now they’re aliens?”

“Must be an x-file,” she retorts, and he can’t help but smile.

* * *

“Dana, your like a million years pregnant. Let me help. You’ll drop it and ruin your daughters first birthday.”

Her first baby is one. Cara is getting so big, it hurts. “You’re crying.”

“I’m pregnant and hormonal,” she snaps, wiping a tear out of her eye. “Give me a second.”

At almost six months pregnant she looked about nine, and her belly was getting harder to navigate around. Her balance was so off, and she had to admit her sister was right. She definitely would have dropped the cake.

“Where is your baby daddy?” She quips, grabbing the paper plates of the counter.

Mulder was most likely giving a tour of the new house, his parents were here and she was incredibly stressed about that as well. The Mulders’ were indifferent to her, but clearly loved their granddaughter.

The three bedroom, two and a half bathroom colonial was perfect, and they end up making an offer the same day they saw it. The whole thing happened so fast- between passing papers, moving and planning Cara's birthday- she barely had time to think.

“Mama, up!” Cara says, pulling at her shirt. “Up, please.”

“You realize your getting to big for this,” she says as her very mobile toddler holds her arms up. With a lot of effort, she’s able to put her on her hip. Cara smiles, and fiddles with her necklace. “Cake,” she points smiling.

“Soon, Cara.”

“Scully, your going to hurt your back,” he warns, looking at her full of concern, coming into the kitchen. She shoots him a look. “My back is shot to hell, already because your unborn children are about the size of grapefruits, and my center of gravity is off. But please, tell me why I shouldn’t hold Cara.”

“She’s snippy,” Melissa points out, and he immediately backs off. “In that case, how can I help?”

“I need the cake brought in, plates and silverware is on the counter and the ice cream is in the freezer.”

“Okay,” he looks at Melissa, and they grab everything she asked.

He gives her a quick kiss, and looks at Cara. “Hey, Scully,” he smiles. “We have a one year old.”

“Cake, dada!” Cara shouts, before she can respond.

“A one year old whose already proficient at the most important part of birthdays.” He tickles her chin, and Cara laughs.

“Cake is an important part, Mulder.”

* * *

“Mama, story pease!?” Cara asks, pulling at her book shelf. She’s fresh from the bath, and her red hair is in a French braid. “Two stories tonight, baby.”

Cara nods, and pulls her personal favorites off the shelf with a grin. Green Eggs and Ham and Good Night Moon. She hands them to her, and climbs into her twin bed. She’s in a big girl room now, since the move. Patting the empty space, she looks at her, “Lie down, Mama, pease.”

“Okay,” she concedes, “but Mama is going to need a little more room than that.” Cara giggles, and scoots over. “Babies?”

“Yeah, the babies are getting pretty big, which means I am too.”

She eases herself on the mattress, and Cara settles next to her. “Egg book,” she points to the Dr. Seuss one. “Good choice,” she kisses her head, and begins to read.

She’s half way through Good Night Moon when Cara is softly snoring on her chest. She gently untangles herself, and eases off the mattress. She’s amazed that Cara doesn’t wake up in the process and slowly backs out of the room leaving the door slightly ajar.

She jumps when she feels a hand on her shoulder. “Jesus, Mulder!”

“Sorry, I was just coming to check on you two. The kitchen is immaculate and the living room is clean thanks to your mother and sister.”

“Thanks for doing that.” When he said there would be a learning curve, he wasn’t kidding. For her, she had to slow down.

“Are you crying?”

“No,” she sniffles, clearly crying. “I’ve just been emotional today.”

“Come on, lets go to bed, Scully.”

They get in on their respective sides, and she takes a breath. “I just kept thinking today that I have no idea what her birth was like. I’m going to have so many stories for them, but for her... When she asks me, someday, what am I going to say?”

“The truth,” he says, softly. “She’s going to ask, and we’re going to have to tell her the truth.”

“I have no memories, no ultrasound pictures...”

Her eyes watered, he knew there was nothing in the world he could say to make it better. They’d already talked about regression hypnosis therapy but she hadn’t been ready. He couldn’t blame her, he didn’t want to go through it himself either, just yet.

“It’s just been getting to me today,” she admits, opening up to him. “It shouldn’t because today isn’t about me, but...”

“I know,” he says, touching her face. There is never any doubt in her mind that he doesn’t. “You should sleep, Scully. Let me be angry for you, for a while, at the injustice of it all.”

* * *

The whole thing start to finish, from the time her labor started to her delivery, was thirty-six hours, and he was there every single minute. She was so sore, and exhausted that she hadn’t been able to comprehend the fact that they were finally, finally here.

“Mulder, your hogging them,” she says, smiling as he cradles the both of them in his arms.

“They were waiting for you to wake up, Scully,” he says, walking over to her. She takes her daughter first, and puts her in her arms. Once she’s settled, he places her son in the other one.

It’s overwhelming, as tears prick at her eyes. “Hi,” she says, softly. “They’re so tiny,” she marvels, looking between the two of them. Her eyes find his, “They’re perfect, Mulder.”

He goes to sit at her bedside, and she stops him. “We can fit.”

He looks from her to the bed. “You think?”

She nods, and pats the empty space. It took some effort, but he was able to sit next to her, and put his arm around all of them. She leaned against his chest, while he played with her hair, that was now hanging past her shoulders.

“Scully?”

“Mulder.”

“We settled on the names right?”

“Liam and Katherine Mulder,” she confirms and looks up at him, gauging his reaction. “Mulder?” He’s smiling, widely. It’s something they hadn’t decided on. Cara was still a Scully and he wasn’t sure if the twins would be too. It just seemed easier to wait.

“Yeah,” she nods. “Now is a good a time as any to tell you that I changed Cara’s birth certificate. She’s one too.”

He kisses her, gently, taking her by surprise. He pulls away, still grinning. “One of these day’s, I’ll make you a Mulder too.”


	5. Re-Opening Old Wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six years later, they get a phone call that drags them back to where it all began.

“Dr. Scully, you have a phone call.”

It’s a phrase that brings her anxiety to a tenfold.

She’s about to scrub in for surgery, and the list of possible emergencies run through her head: the kids, him, death...

“Do you know who it is?” She asks, keeping her tone even. “A man named Walter Skinner, he says he’s with the FBI,” the nurse says, waiting for her response.

“Tell him I’m about to scrub in for surgery.”

The nurse pauses, at the door frame. “He did say it was urgent.”

“I’ll be there in a minute then,” she answers, and shuts off the cold water. So much for operating today, she thinks, taking her scrub cap off her head.

“Agent Scully, I need you and Mulder in my office in an hour.”

“Sir, with all due respect-“

“It’s about your abduction,” he says, cutting her off.

Her eyes go wide. “I’ll be there at three, with Mulder,” she promises and hangs up. Her hands are shaking, and she feels as if her heart is beating out of her chest. Answers to her abduction were put on the back burner. She was married now, a mother of three and her days as a FBI agent were firmly in her past.

“Dr. Scully?”

“Nancy, please reschedule the surgery for tomorrow. I have an emergency.”

The young nurse nods, as she walks to the locker room to collect her things. She quickly changes out of her scrubs into her casual clothes, and checks her phone. Three missed calls all from him, of course.

Throwing her coat on, she flips her phone and hitting speed dial.

“Mulder, where are you?”

“On my way to pick you up, Scully.”

She sighs, “I’ll be at the entrance.”

“Good, because I’m already here.”

She finds the black SUV idling on the curb, as she walks through the door. He offers her a smile, and rolls down the window. “What’s up, Doc?” She gets in, and shakes her head. “Come on, this will be like old times.”

“That is exactly what I’m afraid of,” she says, looking at him. He doesn’t say anything, and doesn’t need to. “I swapped my gun for a scalpel years ago. You were just little slower than me.” He’d been out of the bureau for only two years. It didn’t hold the same appeal after she left, at least, that’s what he told her.

“The kids?”

“Taken care of,” he says. “I called your mother who was more than happy to babysit for a couple of hours.”

She nods, and looks out the window hoping whatever meeting they were being called into lasted that long. The pit in her stomach told her otherwise.

* * *

The hollowed halls of the FBI were exactly as she remembered, except the suits were a lot more streamlined then the nineties. He took her hand, instinctively, and she looked at him. She gave it a gentle squeeze, assuring him that she was fine, and they stepped into Skinners office.

“He’s waiting for you,” the young woman, his secretary said, without any preamble. She opens the the door, and sees Skinner talking to a man.

“Krychek?” He says, letting go, and looks at Skinner. At the name her eyes flash in recognition. He was the man who was assigned as his partner when they were separated, before her abduction. He was also a name in her abduction file.

“Mulder, Scully, please take a seat,” he gestures to the round table, they used to sit at for much longer meetings with other departments.

Krychek sits across from them, on the same side as Skinner, with his eyes on Mulder. Skinner nods at him, and he pauses briefly, before speaking. “The smoking man, as you know him as, is a mutual enemy. His real name, CGB Spender. I haven’t been able to uncover much about him, but what I did is telling. Very telling.”

“You said this was about Scully’s abduction.”

“It is,” he confirms. “It’s about a hell of a lot more than that too.”

“She was taken because you two were too close to what they were doing. You had figured out about the purity control, and the alien fetus. You almost had it all unraveled, so they took her, to get you stop looking. They were going to kill her too, but then she was pregnant, so their plans changed. They still tested her, they needed to test her cells against the vaccine, but of course they didn’t inject her with it, because of the fetus.”

Cara. She felt sick. “Cara.”

“Right,” he looks at her before continuing. “So, ultimately, they gave her back intending to use her as a bargaining chip if they ever needed to stop you again. They knew that if you lost the ones you loved the most, it would hurt you enough to divert your focus off them. Away from their plans.”

He’s silent, and she can feel the anger radiating off him. She takes his hand, under the table, and squeezes it. A silent hope that he can get himself under control. “I have their files on her, and your daughter. The lengths of which I had to get these was not easy.”

“Why now?” She asks, calmly. “Why tell us now.”

“Because like you, I want to bring these mother fuckers down.”

They leave the meeting with her files and a job offer. They promise to consider it.

She knows, they’re back.

* * *

The information he presented to them was a lot to take in. She held the files in her lap, as he drove to her mothers, unable to take her eyes off the ultrasound pictures of Cara. They were all in there, too: twelve weeks, sixteen, twenty-four, thirty two... all of them.

It was remarkable, really.

She hadn’t realized he stopped driving, completely lost in her mind. “Scully?”

Her head turns to him. “I’m fine.” It was a reflex response, and one he knew to call her out on. “It’s just she was... really there, with me. The whole time.” He doesn’t say anything. “It’s just...”

He wipes a tear that rolled down her cheek, with his thumb. “Come on, they’ll make you feel better.”

She chuffs a watery laugh, and puts the files in the glove compartment, leaving the pictures on top. She makes a mental note to show them to Cara soon.

He’s right. “Mom!” Liam calls, bounding into the living room as soon as the door opens. “Grandma made dinner.”

Katie isn’t far behind, always after tagging along after her brother. Those two were thick as thieves. “Hi, mom,” she says, and gives her a hug.

“Really? Just mom?”

Katie giggles. “Hi Daddy.”

“Where’s your sister?”

“Cara is doing homework with Grandma because she says second grade is so much harder than Kindergarten.”

“Kindergarten is hard too,” Liam cuts in and pulls on his fathers hand. “Daddy, I made you a picture,” he says, adjusting his glasses on his nose.

Katie just makes a face when they go into the kitchen. “It’s not even that good of a picture.”

She laughs, really laughs, for the first time that day.

* * *

“Mom?”

Her oldest, at seven going on seventeen is staring at her, expectantly.

She takes her glasses off, and puts the file down. It clearly wasn’t the first time she had tried to get her attention. “What are you reading?”

“I was reading about you, actually,” she says, and puts her legs up, giving her some room. “Come sit.”

Cara regards her, curiously. The expression on her face is one that she’s seen on her own. “You know how you’ve seen pictures of the twins when they were in my belly, and you asked me where yours were?”

Cara nods. “Yeah, and you said you had to find them.”

She smiles, it was the best she could come up with that time. Cara was her most precocious child, and never forgot a thing. She inherited that from her father.

“Well,” she says, and opens the file on her lap. “I found them.”

Cara squints, “I was a floating head?”

“Kind of, you were only twelve weeks,” she explains. “The ones you saw of the twins were when they were sixteen weeks, and they looked more like babies.”

She considers this, as she shows her the next image. “Whoa, now I look like a baby,” she says, in awe. “And this one,” she points to the thirty week scan, “is when I was the biggest. This is, so cool, mom. I went from Alien to a baby.”

“You are definitely your fathers daughter.”

“Mom?”

“Hmm.”

“What was it like when I was born?”

“I remember, that you were the most perfect baby I ever saw, and that you were the only redheaded infant in the hospital.”

She grins at that. “Daddy said I looked like you.”

“He’s right, you’ve been my mini.”

“Mom?”

“Cara.”

“Why’d you name me Cara?”

“Your grandmother did, actually. It means friend in Gaelic, and you know, what it fits you,” she kisses the top of her head. “You were my best friend, when you were little, and the best surprise I ever got.”

“You hate surprises, mom,” Cara looks at her.

“That’s true but not you, my sweet girl. Never you.”

“Mom?”

She suddenly feels like their playing a game of twenty-questions. “Can we watch a show?”

She hands her the remote, “Anything you want.”

Her eyes gleam. “But technically isn’t it past my bedtime?”

“It is, but I think at seven you can handle and extra hour without sleep, what do you think?”

“I think I can handle it, mom.”

Cara flicks the television on, and settles against her, grinning.

* * *

That night she dreams of him.

_“Mulder what the fuck were you thinking? You could have gotten yourself killed. You could have gotten me killed. Do you have a death wish? The x-files are closed and...” she’s so mad, infuriated by him and once again has to come and save him from himself. She is so pissed she can’t even see straight. The hostel, they managed to find, after she dragged both of them out of harm by the skin of their teeth, only had one bed. The fact that they had to share a room, while she needed clean shower and 24 hours of sleep, did nothing to abate her anger._   
_He’s staring at her, non-pulsed, trying not to smile._

_She is about to say something when he suddenly kisses her with such desire she forgets that she was in the middle of yelling at him for his jaunt to the jungle._   
_Suddenly, he has her pinned against the doorframe. It feels so good, that she doesn’t pull away, and finds herself reciprocating. His hands are up her shirt, and her tongue is in his mouth, as they both duel for dominance. The sexual tension between them has reach an apex. She doesn’t dare stop him. “Mulder.” Her voice is low, and breathy. She moans as he sucks on her neck, right where her sensitive spot is._

_He’s not listening, and she doesn’t care as his lips travel lower. He pulls at her shirt, and she lifts it over her head. “Christ, Scully.” She slides her shorts off, and they pool to the floor. “You were saying?” She stares at him. Her eyes are wanton, and hooded with lust as she appreciates his body. His taunt muscles, under his shirt are doing things to her mind, and she wants to drag her nails against his back. She wants to come screaming his name._   
_As if he can read her mind, he looses his shirt, and shucks off his pants, sporting a very impressive erection. This isn’t the first time she has seen it, but it’s the first time she’s seen him unclothed, and she really, really wants him._

  
_She pushes him, on the bed, hovering over him, “Mulder, I want you to fuck me. Hard.” He flips her over, with a grin on his face. “I think I can manage that, Scully.”_   
_“For the record,” she says, low. “I’m still mad at you.”_

“Mulder, yes, right there...” she moans, feeling as if she’s about to come undone.

“Scully?”

Her eyes blink open, confused. “You okay?”

It takes her a minute, to catch her breath and take in her surroundings. It felt so real. So real. Oh god, it wasn’t a dream. She looks at him, slightly embarrassed but the amused smile on his lips tells her that he liked it. “Mulder, I had a memory.”

He raises an eyebrow. “A memory?”

Her face reddens. “A very, vivid memory of Puerto Rico.”

He smiles, widely at her. “Tell me.”

“I was yelling at you about having a death wish,” she says, flushed. “I asked what the fuck you were thinking...”

He looks at her. “That happened.”

“You kissed me, and pinned me against the wall.”

“Also true.”

“Oh god this is so embarrassing,” she pauses. “I asked you to fuck me. Hard. Then I told you I was still mad.”

“That definitely did happen.”

“I remember there was a really ugly blue lamp in that room, that we ended up breaking.”

“No, that was you. You broke that,” he laughs. “I’m beginning to wonder if whatever they did to your memory is wearing off.”

“Nine years later?”

“It’s possible, isn’t it? Your the doctor.”

“It’s possible but maybe I’m just triggered by reading my file.” Her file that goes into a lot of detail during her pregnancy, and describes Cara’s birth meticulously. It was so strange to be reading things about herself that she has no recollection of. “In a strange way, it’s helped having these answers.”

“Good, you deserve them, Scully.” He kisses her, softly. “I’m glad you came to save me in Puerto Rico.”

“Me too,” she smiles. “You know, I’m not really tired if you want to _fuck me, hard_.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he laughs, and he rolls on top of her.

Eight years later, and they still got it.

* * *

It takes convincing on her part, but finally he agrees. A week later, they are gainfully re-employed by the Federal Bureau of Investigation, pending recertification which is nothing. They’ve both kept up on their firearm licensure, and are in excellent physical shape. At this point, it’s just pointless red tape they have to cross. Bureaucracy at its finest.

“You know,” he says, rooting around in the sunflower seed bag on his lap. “This is more like old times.”

“You shucking seeds in rental cars? Yes, exactly like old times.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure, Scully?”

“Staking out Alex Krycheck on a hunch, is not exactly adventurous.”

“Not a hunch, I just don’t trust the slimy bastard.”

“So staking out his apartment, is a good idea? The kids are home, I’m tired and...”

She stops, as she sees him. There’s a blonde woman with him, and they’re walking out together. The woman in question is tall, blonde and gorgeous. She’s dressed head to toe in Donna Karen, and holding a brief case.

They watch as Krychek kisses her. They part, and soon Krychek is at the car window, “So much for being discrete, Mulder.”

“My life isn’t interesting enough for surveillance, but I appreciate the thoroughness. That was Marita, she works at the UN and she’s an asset.”

“Make out with all your assets, Alex?”

“You married your partner.”

She can only laugh at that. “Do a background check on her if you want. Her last name is Corrubvias. In the meantime, get the fuck out of my neighborhood.”

He walks away, and she looks at him. “He might be a rat, but I don’t think he’s screwing with us.”

“Once a rat Scully, always a rat. Whatever happened to trusting no one?”

“I don’t trust him. I just think his motives of screwing over his former employers are pure. I think his intentions are the same as ours except he wants revenge.”

“Don’t you do too?”

“I’ll settle for justice.”

“What if you can only get revenge?”

“Then I’ll take whatever I can get.”

* * *

“Welcome back, Agents,” Skinner had told them, sliding their badges and guns across his desk. It was surreal.

It is officially official. Badges, guns and a basement office.

His poster is still up on the wall, and the space deserves a bleach job. It’s as if no one had been down here for years. She realizes they probably hadn’t. Not since he left them four years prior for a stint in violent crimes.

“Mulder, look up.”

He laughs, the ceiling is still covered in pencils. “I’m surprised gravity has kept them up there.”

“We’re getting me a desk,” she says, and takes her finger along the mahogany one. It’s filthy.

“Anything else you need?” He chuckles.

“Yes, you to not touch the organizing system. You were always putting things in the wrong place.”

“You put Mothman next to Bigfoot, Scully.”

“I organized them by numerical order and you had no system...”

“A for abduction, M for monster and U for unexplained.”

“You’ve reduced the X-files into three categories, Mulder. They’re more complex than that.”

“Are they though?”

She makes a face, thinking about it. “I’m going to say no.”

“Fine you have fun in the files, while I just use the digitized version.”

“We still need both,” she points out, and looks at the filing cabinet. “To be honest, I don’t want to open that. Who knows what’s gonna pop out of it?”

“It, maybe.”

“If a murderous clown pops out, would you file it under monster or unexplained?”

She’s got him there, and she knows it.

“Since we now have access to the FBI database, why don’t you look up Marita, see if Krycheck is a rat and a liar.”

He’s surprised that Krycheck actually told them the truth, once he reads through Maritas background check.

* * *

The first thought that she has is that she hasn’t done an autopsy in six years. Her second thought is about lunch. She’s already starving. He used to tease her how nothing phased her, and he was right, for the most part.

The body was flown in from Texas. A casualty from the bombing in downtown Dallas, that took the lives of four people. Two firemen, and two children.

The bodies were assigned to her due to their unique decompensation. She had no idea what that could mean, but the possibilities of a gelatinous substance was not one of them.

He was just as perplexed as she was. “Mulder, I’ve never seen anything like this before. It’s like...”

“Disgusting,” he quips, and looks at her.

“I was going to say medical mystery.”

“Do you have any theories?”

“As of now, I can think of no cause of death that would impact tissue like this. And these were victims of the bomb?”

“That’s what the paperwork claims.”

“A bomb would cause burns not this,” she touches the chest cavity with her hand, applying pressure and it was like putting her hand on memory foam. “Did you see that?”

“Scully, I’m going to loose breakfast if you keep doing that.”

“You can leave, unless you want to assist as I crack his chest open.”

“On that note, that’s my cue.”

“I’m going to see what I can dig up on the incident and get back to you.”

“We’re still on for lunch though?”

“Your stomach is steel,” he retorts, and shakes his head.

“Mulder, that isn’t an answer!” She calls as he’s already out the door.

* * *

She’s trying to make sense of the results from the gelatinous substance, but it doesn’t. It’s like no compound she's ever seen, or exists in nature.

She’s completely befuddled, as he peers over her shoulder, like one of the kids, when they want something from her. She puts it down, and looks at him. He’s been caught.

“Really?”

“Curiosity, Scully. You can’t fault me for it, can you?”

She can’t. Not really. She wants to know too. “I am stumped here, the chemical break down is something unnatural.”

His eyes widen. “As in extraterrestrial.”

“I don’t know,” she says, earnestly. “Someone has to have pulled the strings to get us on this.”

“I’m not saying aliens...”

“But, aliens,” he says seriously.

She shoots him a look. “The body itself had a cavity in it, as if something grew there...”

He’s interested now. “Something grew?”

“I’m waiting on the test results from that, too.”

“Do you think, and now I’m going to sound like something out of a sci-go film, that aliens could use our bodies as hosts, to repopulate?”

She stares at him, and sees he’s being completely serious. “I don’t see why not, woman give birth so it’s possible.”

“You becoming a believer in your old age, Scully?”

“I’ve just experience too much to be such a skeptic.”

Satisfied with her answer, she goes back to her notes. There’s so much to try to make sense of that her head spins. He’s not helping by staring at her.

“Yes?”

“It just feels almost like an ending.” She frowns not following his train of thought. “The fact that I’ve worn you down,” he clarified.

She’s about to ask him to elaborate when the phone rings. “Mulder,” he greets, picking it up first. “We’ll be right up.”

“We’ve been summoned,” he says, and looks at her. “Skinner. Sounded urgent.”

That is how they end up on a plane to Arizona.

* * *

“How are we going to balance this?” She asks, exhausted. Two flights later, and they were in Phoenix. “We can’t just give the kids to my mother, it’s not fair to her.”

He knows this, and agrees with her. “We traveled so much in the early days that it isn’t conducive to parenthood.”

They were able to balance it before, when he was writing, and she was doctoring. They’d pick up the slack for one another, but now... routine was becoming hard to come by. “Maybe one of us should stay back, and the other can go do the field work for the out of state cases.”

“Scully, our partnership worked because we had each others back in the field.”

“We have three children, Mulder, who are very young and can’t be left unsupervised.”

“I’m not saying let them go _lord of the flies_ ,” he cuts in. “I’m saying that I need you with me.”

She sighs in resignation getting absolutely nowhere with his stubbornness. She plays her final card, “Mulder, what if you or I were injured or killed on a case, we’ve had too many close calls... you’ve been abducted. I’ve been abducted. You’ve been shot at, multiple times, and taken a few bullets, and I’ve been hospitalized as well... what if they’re still monitoring us? Monitoring me with that god damn chip in my neck! Which you told me I can’t take out, but don’t remember as to why.”

He’s silent, contemplative. “If you take that chip out, you will die. I was warned...” that particular memory is hazy, and he knows it’s from his time being abducted.

“Which is why I’ve never removed it. I can’t lie and say I’ve never thought about it. This unknown technology under my skin, it’s crazy!”

He sits down, on the motel bed, and looks at her. She’s right, it is crazy. It’s insane, but he just knows that if she were to take it out, she’d be dead. “Mulder, I just...”

“You’re having reservations, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she nods, taking her heels off. “I didn’t think of the ramifications.”

“You were the one who convinced me.”

“Because I could see that you were unhappy, Mulder. Since you’ve quit the bureau, you’ve been different. I didn’t question it, at the time but now I realize you never got your answer.”

“My answer?”

“Of what happened to your sister.”

Her ability to read him was uncanny. “She was the reason for my work, yes, my personal cursade but Dana, it almost killed me, and you in the process.”

Her eyes snap at him at the sound of her given name. He puts his face in his hands. “I think the answer to her disappearance is just going to always just be unknown. Part of me, thinks she’s dead. That she’s been dead for years, and I’ve just been chasing a ghost.”

She sits down next to him, carefully. The framed picture of Samantha is a prominent one on their mantel next to various pictures of the kids. “Fox,” she squeezes his arm, gently. “If you found out she was dead, and had been for years, what would you feel?”

“Relief. I’d feel like I can finally let her go.”

“Let her go, Mulder. You were a boy, stop carrying around the guilt. It wasn’t your fault. None of it was...”

He looks at her, and his eyes water. “Why does it still feel like it?”

She folds him into her arms, “Because you are you. And you’ve spent years feeling like that twelve year old little boy. Because it’s hard to grieve for someone that could be still alive. Because of the hope that she still is.” She rubs her fingers through his hair, as he breaks down, choking back sobs. “Let it out, Mulder. I’m here.”

He’s finally, finally mourning for her ghost.

* * *

She wakes up to the sound of her cellphone going off, and tries to disentangle herself from him, only to wake him up in the process.

He sits up, bleary eyed and confused.

“Sorry,” she mutters, and picks up. “Scully.”

“Yeah... we can head there first.... yes, I’ll let him know.”

“Apparently there is another body.”

“A double Autopsy day, Agent Scully?”

“Looks like it,” she says, tiredly. “But this time, they found a black substance in the body cavity...”

“I can hear your heart pitter patter from over here.”

“Shut up,” she smirks. “Get dressed. I’m going to shower.”

“Just because you miss bossing the kids around doesn’t mean I’ll let you do it to me...”

She just throws his shirt at him, and shakes her head. He is a forty two year old kid.

Men.

* * *

“Anything?”

“You asked me that ten minutes ago,” she says, as she takes out her tape recorder. The body they were flown to out to autopsy was of forty three year old Denis Mulligan who was employed by Zeus Genetics. He didn’t show up for work after being dropped off at home by a coworker.

A friend called it in, and he was found in an overheated apartment in the Phoenix desert. Which he already thought was weird. It was 102 degrees and the man had his living space at 90. Something he made note of at the crime scene, and to Scully.

“Could the thing that grew in him only develop in warm temperatures?”

“You’re so sure it’s a Alien, aren’t you?”

“Scully, the body doesn’t even resemble a human...”


	6. Remember. Remember. Remember.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the shortest chapter, but the most important chapter.

" _Agent Scully, you need to relax, or we will give you another sedative."_

_It's the man again. The man with a mask. His eyes are staring in to hers as she thrashes against the bed. Her hands are bound, and the leather straps are digging into her skin. Her nails are digging into her palms, making half-moon marks, and drawing blood._

_She has no idea where she is, or how much time has past. Her only measurement of time is the swell of her belly that continues to grow. The fetus, currently, developing inside her, is the only thing saving her life._

_She remembers Mulder._

_She remembers that this baby was made in Puerto Rico, not in a lab, but in the heat of the Jungle. A momentary lapse of sanity on their part._

_She remembers._

_She remembers._

_She remembers._

_Memories are the only thing keeping her sane, as they inflict tests. As they try to break her spirit._

_Let them, she thinks. Let them try._

_She's full of bravado. Inside, she is terrified._

_She doesn't care about the pain, nothing hurts anymore. The men are trying to break her._

_Today, they are holding a scalpel to her neck. The metal knife digs into her flesh, as a hand on her head keeps her steady. She feels the cut. The blood runs down her skin, and she bites her tongue, to stop herself from crying out. They never used anesthesia._

_She feels a pressure, something foreign is being inserted, and then nothing._

_Sleep overtakes her. Another sedative._

* * *

_She comes to when she feels a gush of water down flow down her thighs._

_Pain._

_Her belly constricts and contracts, and wants it to stop. The baby is safe within her. She can't keep it safe when it's born._

_Pain. Pressure._

_Pain. Pressure._

_Pain. Pressure._

_She cries out for Mulder, and it doesn't matter._

_A knight in shining armor won't save her. No one will._

_"Agent Scully, you need to push."_

_No. She refuses._

_"If you don't you'll loose the baby."_

_She's lost so much already._

_"Agent Scully..."_

_She pushes, instinctively, and feels a tiny limb slide against her thigh. The throaty cries the baby emits make her cry in relief._

_Don’t take my baby. Please don’t take my baby. The wails she makes are animalistic. Primal._

_Don’t hurt it. Please don’t hurt it._

_All too soon, it's taken away- alive, breathing, kicking and screaming- as well as her memory._

_"Scully?"_

_Her hands go to the gun in her hand, and she reflexively pulls it out, but he quickly stops her. "It's me." Him. Mulder. He’s staring at her, wide eyed and full of concern. He's non-pulsed by her reaction. Triggers of unknown origins linger for both of them._

_It all comes back._

* * *

He takes a long sip of beer, as she uncurls her legs, putting them on the floor. Her breathing is uneven. He knows her well enough to give her time to process. “Mulder, I just remembered something." Her voice breaks, and she blinks back the images, that play in her mind like a movie. "I remembered them chipping me. I could feel it," her voice is now whispering. "They kept plying me with sedatives and they took her... Cara... Right after she was born... no anesthetic... I was crying, screaming....I remember giving birth..." She knows she isn't making sense. Her brain hardly does. The onslaught of memories is too much. Too hard. Too fast. The room starts to spin, as if she's on a carnival ride, and she'd really like to get off. Soon, she passes out, hitting her head against the wooden booth.

She wakes up in bed gripping the unfamiliar bed sheets.. This time her head is screaming out in pain, but he's watching her, carefully. A chair is pulled next to the bed like he's keeping vigil. Something they've both done too many times to count.

Arizona. They're in Arizona on a case. Right.

He brushes the hair out of her face, and smiles gently. "I was worried about you."

"I... have a headache."

"You must. You hit your head, pretty hard, against the booth at the bar."

She does remember that. "I... how long have I been out?"

"A few hours," he says, as she sits up. "I called and checked up on the kids, they're fine, but I think we owe your mother a really good Christmas gift this year..."

"I'm tired of this, Mulder... I'm tired of missing chunks of my life. Important parts of my life... Memories surfacing at random times leaving me paralyzed... I'm just so fucking tired of this." Her voice waivers, and her eyes begin to water. She feels weak. She feels vulnerable, and she hates them.

The pain of it all is etched on his face. "I know. I hate it too. I hate what they did to you. To us."

They don’t have time to hash it out further because the phone rings.

He gets it, as she tries to steady herself.

“Scully, that was the FBI lab. The oily substance you sent from the body is classified as an identifiable virus. In other words, they have no idea what it is.”

“A virus?”

“Of unknown origins.”

“A virus that leaves body cavities, where something developed and grew, and leaves the body to decompose in a gelatinous state. That sounds utterly insane, and highly improbable.”

“Welcome back to the X-files, Scully.”

* * *

It was a bust. There were no leads, nothing concrete, and so they were pulled back to DC.

She had been on edge, since the return of her memories, and told him she was finally ready. Hypnotic regression was something they discussed, briefly years ago. Before the twins, actually, and now she needed to close that chapter of her life.

When the plane lands, she has a plan. A good one, she just needs him to go along with it.

“Mom! Dad!” Cara sees them first.

Suddenly, the three of them are rushing toward her and Mulder. Quite a homecoming.

“Mom, guess what? We were good for grandma.”

Her mother nods in confirmation. “For the most part...”

“Okay, fine I tried to tell her I could stay up till nine,” Cara cut in. “But it was only because I wanted to stay up and watch tv with her.”

Conspiracy be damned. She missed this normalcy.


	7. Samantha Mulder

“Relax, breathe. I’m going to take you back to that day, the day you were taken...”

His hand was laced in hers, and her eyes were closed. Her mind was quiet, and she was concentrating.

Breathing in.

Breathing out.

Inhale.

Exhale.

_1993._

_Rain. It was raining, she could feel it on her skin, as Duane Barry held her against him dragging her to his car._

_His car._

_She tried to fight him, but she was overpowered. Drugged._

_The trunk. Darkness. Voices. Barry. Someone else. Recognizable._

_“For your efforts, you will no longer be of use to us.” The voice, again. A chill ran down her spine: The Cigarette Smoking Man._

_The trunk opens and it’s him._

_“Agent Scully, I do apologize in which this was handled, but you will see it is for the best.”_

_She can’t speak- she’s gagged- but the nefarious smile makes her blood cold._

_“I’m going to give you something,” he holds up the syringe and then blackness._

_It’s sterile. Cold. “Where am I?”_

_“You’re at a facility, Agent Scully.”_

_Him, again._

_Her wrists are bound, she’s in a hospital gown, and there is an IV in her arm. Monitors are humming in the white sterile room. It’s so bright, it takes a minute for her eyes to adjust. “Did you know you’re pregnant?”_

_She hadn’t gotten the chance to test yet. This was never how she imagined it being confirmed. “What do you want?”_

_“We warned him. He was getting too close.”_

_“To what?” she spits, full of anger._

_“The truth, Agent Scully. The truth that has become his crusade. His sister is the key and he’s too close.”_

_“Samantha.”_

_“Samantha Mulder is dead,” he says, taking a long drag of the cigarette. “She killed herself years ago, but it didn’t matter. We got what we needed.”_

_“What did you need?”_

_“She was the only one who came back successfully transplanted with Alien DNA. The others were failures... She was the first human-hybrid, which is why we cloned her.”_

_“You cloned her?”_

_“She exists, still. But the original Samantha is dead, which is the beauty of eugenics don’t you agree?”_

_She doesn’t say anything. “Why not just kill me?”_

_“Ah, that is a more complicated answer, Agent Scully. We’re curious about the child your carrying, especially, since the results of your amniocenteses proves that Agent Mulder is the father.” He raises an eyebrow. “We knew you two were close, but we never expected you to act on that. It was quite surprising. But since we now know that we’re curious to see if the child will have the same genetic anomaly Samantha had. The same one that made her able to withstand the Alien DNA. So, until it’s born, we wait.”_

_“And after...”_

_“That entirely depends on the results Agent Scully. Besides, we wouldn’t need a baby. We’d need an eight year old. There was something anomalous in Samantha's DNA that was able to be manipulated. We found that by pure happenstance.”_

“Scully, Dana, please open your eyes!”

Her eyes blink open, and she grips his hand. “They’re going to take her. They’re going to take Cara.”

* * *

After the hypnotic regression session, the pieces began to fit together. The holes in her memory filled. She had answers, which only brought more questions.

He needed proof that Samantha was dead.

She knew the safety of Cara was paramount. There was no way that evil bastard was getting his hand on her daughter. Her instincts told her that whatever anomalous DNA Samantha had then Cara had too. Why else give her back?

She cut her hours, and only worked while the kids were in school. She picked them up, and stayed home with them, while he sought his answers for both of them.

It was just a regular day in the office, until a Manila envelope was slipped under the office door.

“What is that?”

She went over and grabbed it- it was innocuous enough for interdepartmental mail- and she slid the contents into her hands. A journal.

He raises his eyebrow as she puts it on the desk. “Looks like the one that Sam used to keep, locked up when she was little,” he muses, as she touches the well-worn pink leather. Something she herself would have kept as a kid. She swore off diaries after Charlie did a book report on hers when she was fifteen.

She opens it, tentatively, and his eyes go wide.

“That’s Samantha's handwriting, Scully...”

_She begins to read, “They did more tests today, but not the horrible kind. I was awake and they made me lay still... while they shined lights in my eyes. They asked me questions, but I always lie now and tell them what they want to hear, just to make them stop. I hate them and I hate the way they treat me... like I'm an old suitcase they can just drag around and open up whenever they want to. They know I hate them, but they don't even care. Sometimes I think my memories were taken by the doctors but not all of them. I remember faces. I think I had a brother... with brown hair, who used to tease me. I hope someday he reads this and knows I wish I could see his face for real.”_

“She was fourteen there in 1979. Fourteen.”

She turns the page, and he reads the next entry, which is also the last.

_“No more. No more tests. No more questions. I'm getting out of here and not turning back. Tonight. Tonight I'm going to run far, far away. I can't let them catch me. They'll kill me if they do. Running for my life, for the rest of my life. I want to die. I don’t think I’ll be able to ever outrun them. Death is the only answer. I hope, maybe, my brother, the one I dream of, knows that I love him. He was the only one who ever gave a damn about me...”_

His face collapses in his hands, and she goes over to him. “She’s dead, somewhere... all these years...” his eyes are wet, and he puts his face in her stomach. She doesn’t say anything, just holds him while he cries, for the second time, grieving for Samantha. Her fingers run through his hair, and she wishes she could just take the pain away.

* * *

“Mom, can you please let me go. Everyone is going to Sadie’s sleepover.”

“The answer is no, Cara.”

“But you know her mom and dad. I’ve even slept over Sadie’s before...So, why?”

The why is that she isn’t safe. Cara’s birthday is in a few weeks, and she’ll be eight years old. That’s why. Except Cara can’t know any of that.

She huffs, exasperated, with a pout on her face that so much looks like Mulder’s. “Dad, please convince mom! Please.”

“Sorry, Care. Your mother said no.”

Cara scoffs, gives up and goes to get her shoes on. The twins are in the middle of eating cereal, and she’s on her first cup of coffee. It’s just another normal day.

He gives her a quick kiss, as Katie spills her milk all over the table.

Yeah, just another day... until it isn’t.


	8. Safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AN: This is the end. Thanks for coming along for the ride.

_It’s dark._

_I’m cold and I really just want my mom and dad._

_My mom and dad are probably wondering where I am. I don’t know. I’m in a car, I think... I can smell smoke, but it’s not regular smoke. I think it’s cigarettes. It smells gross._

:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:

“What do you mean, she isn’t in class? I dropped her off this morning, and saw her go inside with her brother and sister.”

Mrs. Mulder...

“It’s Scully. Listen, she’s seven years old. She didn’t just up and leave.”

“I understand, and believe me we are doing everything we are to find her. The police are on there way...”

She hangs up, and grabs her keys. Her stomach is in knots, and she knows this isn’t good.

The twins are in the office, and run up to greet her as soon as they see her. “Mom!”

“Give me a minute, guys. I need to speak with-“

“Are you Dana Scully?” A man in uniform, cut her off.

“Yeah, I am. My husband...”

“Scully, what happened?” He’s out of breath and wide eyed.

“She’s gone, Mulder. They got her.”

:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:

_“Cara, my name is Carl.”_

_The girl is regarding him carefully. Her feet barely touch the floor, as she sits in his office. “I need to talk to you, about your aunt.”_

_“Auntie Melissa?”_

_“No. Your Aunt Samantha.”_

_“I don’t have an Aunt Samantha.”_

_“Your fathers sister, Samantha. She died before you were born.”_

_“I want my mommy and daddy. Please can I just go home?” She begins to cry, and he shakes his head._

_“Not yet you have something we need, Cara.”_

_“What?”_

_“Your DNA, Cara. We’ve been waiting quite a while for it....”_

_The smoke billows in her face and she starts to cough. “Please, just let me go home. I want my mommy and daddy.”_

:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:

They started with the schools surveillance system.

Considering they were too close to this, Skinner implemented a task force. Officially, they were not allowed near this.

Unofficially, they made more leeway in twenty minutes than the task force made in a hour. When they see the grainy image of a tall man, and Cara, they know it’s him.

“Mulder...”

“I’m going to kill him,” he says, in a tone that takes her by surprise. He’s completely serious, and it almost scares her, if she hadn’t already felt the exact same way.

“Can you make out the license plate?”

“It’s a partial, JCX...” he trails off. “It’s too fucking blurry.”

He’s already dialing the Lone Gunmen before she can suggest it. “Yeah, it’s me. Turn off the tape. Cara’s been taken. I have a partial plate for a black ford explorer.” He looks at the screen again, trying to make out the fourth letter, but it’s too blurred. “JCX... Maybe a Z or E... Try both?...” He hangs up and looks at her, “The car is registered to a Milton Fugazi... son of a bitch.”

“Fake name for a real person...”

“They got an address though.”

“You couldn’t have led with that?”

:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:

She wasn’t surprised when they pulled up to a vacant plot of land.

Another dead end.

“I can’t just wait and hope their going to find her, Mulder. We both know they’re looking in the wrong direction.”

He slams his palm on the steering wheel in frustration. She can tell he’s trying to keep it together, but his expression tells her otherwise. “We were both taken to warehouses, right?”

An idea forms in his mind and he looks at her, “So, we start with identifying all of them in the DC area...”

“How are we going to do that with out the... oh,” he looks at her, and shakes his head. “The Gunmen.”

_:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:_

_Cara screams, trying to fight off the men holding her down. The force of which she’s being pushed upon is bruising pale white skin._

_“Stop! Please,” she wails and cries out for them to listen._

_“She’s like her mother was,” one man says._

_“Can’t we just gag her?” Another asks, looking to the Cigarette Smoking Man for answers._

_“No,” he shakes his head. “Not yet. Cara, you have to stop. It won’t hurt.”_

_“You’re lying!” she yells, red-faced and through her tears. “You’re going to hurt me. I just want to go home. I just want my mom and dad...”_

_He comes close, as she stays quietly held down on the bed. Her arms are held apart, and her legs are bound together by a thick rope. “Cara, I’m your grandfather. I would never hurt you.”_

_Her eyes widen at this information and she immediately doesn’t believe him. “My grandfather is dead.”_

_“I’m your father’s father,” he confesses, as she stares at him already hating this man more than she ever thought possible. “You’re lying,” she spits venomously. I don’t believe you.”_

_He pulls a syringe out of his pocket, and holds it up. He gently strokes her hair, and she cringes at the contact. “This will make you fall asleep.”_

_She feels a slight pinch, then nothing..._

:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

She has a feeling... an instinct rather, that they’re at the correct place. This is where she is, her mind screams. It takes everything in her to not go in there guns blazing and raise holy hell, but all she can think about his her daughter and what they could be doing to her. It makes her queasy and enraged.

The last on their list, Mendel Distribution Co. - the irony of it being named after the father of genetics makes her skin crawl.

The Velcro of the bullet proof vest makes her head snap up to him. He tosses her the extra vest, “Let’s go get our girl.”

:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:

They’re breaking every single rule, and taking a big risk with no back up but they don’t have enough time to call in reinforcements. The task force, at this point would have slowed them down. Time was of the essence.

The first round of bullets takes her by surprise.

He shoots, quickly and efficiently. The man is down before she can blink her eyes. “Still got it.”

“You realize we just alerted them to our presence, Mulder.”

He nods, and she looks behind her.

Fuck.

:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:

“Isn’t this quite a nice family reunion...”

A chill runs down her spine, she wants to tell him to fuck off, but she’s gagged. Her wrists a bound behind her back and she can see her husband in the chair next to her. Cara is still but she can make out her chest moving. She’s breathing. At that she tears up. “We we’re about to begin phase one of testing, before you two showed up,” he continues calmly, and looks between them. “Although, admittedly, this was not how I imagined it going... it is quite poetic.”

She can see the fire in her husbands eyes. If looks could kill the man would be eviscerated on the sterile white floor. “She is alive, Cara. Save for a few bruises on her arms and legs from fighting us, she’ll be fine. Well, maybe, I don’t know,” he says and exhales a thick fog of smoke. “Your guns are gone, and I’ve taken the liberty to prepare two more trials... one for each of you.”

“Have you ever wondered why she’s never been sick? Not even a common cold? Her DNA may prove to be more valuable than your sisters, Fox.”

He finally stops talking as a .22 bullet crashes into his skull. She can hear the crack, and his brain matter explodes on the wall behind him. His blood seeps onto the stark white floor, and she feels someone undoing the rope on her wrists.

“It’s over, Agent Scully. He’s dead.”

It’s over. It’s over. It’s over.

She doesn’t believe it.

:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:

It might be over but they’re still not out of the woods. Cara isn’t waking up from whatever they injected her with, and she hasn’t left her bedside since.

“You look like shit,” he says, quirking a grin at her.

They’re across from each other, and she knows he’s right. “So do you,” she counters, with a small smile. Her body aches, her head is on fire, and her wrists are red and sore. None of that matters at the moment because their daughter is alive.

“The kids are...”

“Fine,” he finishes, and looks at her. “There’s a patrol car stationed outside your mother’s house.”

It doesn’t do much to pacify her nerves but its something. She fiddles with her wedding ring, needing something for her hands to do with the adrenaline from the day is still pulsing through her veins. What a difference a day makes...

Cara begins to stir, “Mom?”

“We’re here, Cara,” her eyes are watery, and she’s at her side. “Cara, your safe.”

“Dad?”

“Right, here. You’re fine.”

“Where am I?”

“Right now, your at the hospital, Cara.”

“I was so scared,” she says, looking at her parents. “But you found me.”

“We always will too.”


End file.
